Fated
by Shield-Maiden-of-Sherwood
Summary: Life, as Ana Cousland knew it, was perfect. As daughter of the second most powerful man in Ferelden - behind the King- she had everything she could ask for; her own mabari hound, loving parents, living in a beautiful castle, sneaking away with her childhood sweetheart to the gardens for stolen kisses. Little did she know of the dark forces lurking in the shadows.
1. A Lover's Proposal

The summer sun glints off the shimmering surface of the water of the white marble fountain as Ana sits perched on the edge, trailing her fingers over the water.

"I'm still waiting on my answer."

She turns to look at Ser Gilmore, who stands nearby in his glimmering armor. "Oh?" She asks, her lips curling up into a coy smile. "I don't remember the question."

He chuckles, casting a quick glance around before kneeling before her. Taking her hand in his, his pale green eyes peer admiringly into her electric blue ones. "Marry me." He whispers. "If you say yes, I can speak with your father tonight. Bryce is already fond of me."

"He's fond of you because he's known you since you were a boy." Ana points out thoughtfully. "Besides," She smirks. "That wasn't a question."

"Fine." He clears his throat which earns a laugh from her. "My dearest Ana, will you marry me and make me the happiest man in all of Thedas?"

"I-" Her smile falls as she looks away, her gaze falling on her mabari, Much, who lies stretched out by her feet. Ser Gilmore takes notice and mimics her expression.

"What's wrong, my love? Have I upset you?"

Her eyes lift to meet his once more. "Rory...I love you, you know that."

"And I love you." He says, his brow furrowing. He traces small circles into the back of her palm. "I don't understand why you look so sad. Is that not something you want?"

She could hear the tinge of hurt in his voice and sighs. "It's not that." She rises from her seat, waking Much from his lazy slumber. His eyes turn upward as she looks at her, tilting his head with a decisive sniff.

"Then what is it?"

She looks around them anxiously, before grabbing his hand and pulling out of sight of the doors of the castle. Once behind a tall hedge, she pushes him toward it as her hand slides to the back of his head, his hands encircling her waist. Her fingers entangle in his dark red hair and she reaches up with her other hand to caress his stubbled jaw, her eyes search his. "Rory, I do want to marry you... someday."

"Then say yes!" He frowns. He brings a gauntleted hand to her cheek, tucking a strand of dark brown hair behind her ear. "We wouldn't have to marry right away. We could remain engaged for as long as you want and continue as we do now, only it would no longer have to be in secret." He watches her conflicted expression. "What do you say?"

"I doubt we'd be able to do everything that we currently do." She smirks,her cheeks reddening slightly as she looks up at him. "I'm sure my father wouldn't be pleased with what we did last night."

Roderick chuckles. "Ah yes... that would still have to be done in secret. I'm surprised they didn't hear us. You were prettyloud and sound tends to travel, especially in that particular corridor."

She scoffs, playfully whacking his arm. "That was your fault."

He laughs and pulls her to him once more, his lips capturing hers. "Mm. I did love the sounds you made." He breathes, his hand reaching to cup her rear in her dress to pull her closer.

She leans into the kiss, savoring the taste of wine that lingered on his lips from their picnic earlier.

He breaks the kiss and looks down at her. "Then what is it? What is preventing you from saying yes?"

She frowns, her fingers lightly grazing the red stubble along his jawline. "I just want us to enjoy our youth and...this." She says, leaning to rest her forehead on his."I love knowing that we have this little secret that is all ours." She pulls away slightly to look him in the eye. Her lips curling upward. "It makes our nights together that much..." She reaches down, her finger grazing the outline of his half hard cock in his trousers. "Hotter."

"Careful, love." He growls. "I might have to take you right here behind this hedge."

She giggles as she presses her lips against his once more.

Pulling away, a smile creeps up to his lips. "Maker, how things have changed over the years. "

She nods, tracing the neckline of his tunic which peeks out at the top of his armor. "We were playmates for the longest time. I remember when you first arrived. You were such a small boy at six years old."

"Seven actually." He corrects. "My father spoke with your father and left me here to train to be a knight."

"Ah yes." Ana says, smiling at the memory. "You were just a page boy back then."

"Aye." He nods. "I was. We often played when you would skip out of your tutoring lessons. You told me they were always far too boring for our liking."

"They were! Ana laughs. "They were always about the Banns, Teyrns, and other nobles and the lands they owned." She shrugs. "Fergus is the oldest and a boy so he'll take over as Teyrn after my father." She frowns. "I'm most likely to be married off. There's no point in learning such things."

He gently touches her chin, his thumb grazing her bottom lip. "Fergus may be first in line, my love, but it's still important to learn. It could come in handy someday." He frowns. "What if something happens to Fergus? You'd be next in line."

Pushing away from him, she shakes her head defiantly. "Why would anything happen to him?" She frowns, her brows drawing together. "The Couslands are beloved by our people! There are many people who even believe that my father should be king instead of Cailan!"

His frowns. "Your family is loved but that doesn't mean that you don't have enemies, my love. It's not uncommon for somebody to rise up— "

"No." She snaps, crossing her arms over her chest. "That won't happen! My father and Fergus are good and brave men. If any man is foolish enough to rise against us, they'll easily be taken down. Howe for one wouldn't allow that to happen. As soon as there's a threat, he'll have his men ready to fight. He's sworn an oath!"

Never liking to see her get upset, he sighs, taking her face in his hands. "I know you don't like talking about such things..." He offers her a smile. "Let's talk about something else then, shall we? I was there when you got Much, remember?"

Her smile slowly returns. "I do. It was my name day and my father called me into the great hall." She looks down at her dog with a loving smile. He gives a low woof and she scratches him between his ears. "You were so little back then!" She coos.

He gives her a happy bark and licks her hand. Roderick laughs. "It's a shame that Nan never cared much for him."

Ana wrinkles her nose. "Mabaris are too much of a hassle for young noble ladies!" She quotes, punctuating with a laugh. "She was just mad that he liked to chew on everything and ruined her favorite wooden spoon."

He watches her admiringly as she looks down at her hound. The sun making the reddish tint in her dark hair more prominent. "For the longest time, I always saw you as just a playmate and yet, strangely, one day I didn't." She turns to him, a smile playing on her lips. "Suddenly, I noticed how beautiful you were..."

She raises a brow. "Were?" She teases, with a mock frown.

"Are." He corrects himself with a chuckle. "I remember how one night, when I was assigned to the night patrol during your father's ball, you snuck out and bumped into me."

"I remember that night." She chuckles. "Lord Irving's dull son was trying to dance with me. He spoke for at least an hour about his favorite type of lock." She grimaces at the memory. "Once he turned to speak with a man I made him bump into, I quickly escaped. I turned to make sure he wasn't following and ran right into you." Turning from her, he motions for her to join him as they began to walk side by side, her hand resting on his arm. "We kissed that night, if I recall." She says, keeping her voice low..

"We did." His eyes flick over to her. "My heart was racing and I felt my cheeks burn as I helped you to your feet. You looked so beautiful that night in your shimmering gown..." He chuckles at the thought. "When you offered for me to join you in the garden, I couldn't resist." He looks away as though suddenly self-conscious. "We didn't speak much back then with exception of the occasional tutoring or weapons training lesson but I thought of you often. Some days, I thought of little else."

She gapes at him. "Really? You never told me this."

He shrugs. "At the time, I figured you didn't feel the same since you're the Teyrn's daughter and I was just a simple squire." He shoots her a grin."I admired you from afar and even hoped I would see you whenever I patrolled the corridors."

She bites her lower lip. "I must confess, I thought of you often as well."

"Oh?" He asks, raising a brow.

Ana nods. "I used to watch you during your training sessions in the courtyard. I used to tell people I was there to watch my brother and learn but I was mostly there to see you." Her lips curl up into a grin. "That night of the ball, I remember we strolled through the gardens and in one secluded corner, you kissed me."

"How could I not?" He chuckles, his eyes meeting hers. "The way you looked that night in the moonlight, you were just begging to be kissed."

She bites her lip. "I was hoping the entire stroll that you would." She giggles. "Then my father assigned you as my personal guard a few days after you were knighted."

"And now look at us." He smiles, touching her hand. They stop walking. "We've been through so much together that I can't imagine going through life without you by my side." He cups her cheek with a smile. "So I ask you again, Ana. Will you marry me?"

Ana opens her mouth to speak as she hears their names being called from the other side of the hedge. They quickly separate and Ana smooths down her hair and dress as her father's steward, Howard Taylor, appears from behind the hedge and looks between them before his gaze lands on Ana. "Ah, there you are! I've been looking all over for you."

"Well, here I am." She says coolly, spreading her hands before her. "What do you need?"

Well accustomed with her sass, he ignores her irritation. "Your tutor said you were late." He shoots Ser Gilmore a glare. "Your guard is supposed to ensure that you show up and yet here you are..."

Before Roderick can say anything in his defense, Ana speaks up. "Well, truthfully, that was my fault." The steward's gaze shifts.

"Pardon?"

"I was playing a practical joke on Ser Gilmore and ran off. He had actually just found me moments before you did and was about to take me back to my lessons."

Once more, his gaze shifts to Gilmore who shrugs with a sheepish grin. He sighs heavily. "Very well. Just make sure she meets with her tutor and actually stays there." Gilmore nods and he turns back to Ana. "Your father and mother will hear about this."

"That's nothing new from you, Tattle-Taylor." She mutters.

"What was that, Lady Ana?"

"Nothing." She lies, smiling sweetly. "We'll be right there."

He eyes her suspiciously but turns on his heel and begins walking back towards the castle. Once he's out of earshot, Ana's smile falls into a scowl. "I really hate that man."

Roderick chuckles. "I'm sure most people do. I'm pretty sure that if it wasn't for Howe, he wouldn't be working here."

"Ugh." She sneers. "It's almost as bad as when Howe proposed that I marry his son... what's his name?"

"Nathaniel, I believe."

"Yeah..." She shakes her head. "He just wants to be linked to our family. If he wasn't my father's old friend, I would have thought he was looking to replace him as Teyrn of Highever." She shrugs and pushes the thought from her mind. "I guess I should get going to my lesson then." She sighs, grimacing.

"Probably." He grins, motioning towards the castle. "Then, shall we, my lady?"

"Might as well."

* * *

Later that night, Ana lounged in her room as her elven handmaiden, Nonni, quietly brushed and plaited her long dark hair. She watches the flame of the candle on the table before her flicker, her face drawn in a thoughtful expression. "Nonni." She suddenly says. "Can you fetch me that lavender oil that was sent to me?"

The woman nods and appears by her side, holding out a vial. Taking it from her, she thanks her and dismisses her for the night. Once Nonni leaves the room, Ana sighs and drips some oil on her fingertips, smiling to herself as she dabs some behind her ears, on her chest and a bit on her wrists which she rubs together. Rising, she throws on her silken robe over her thin night rail and walks over to the door. As she creaks it open to peer out, Much, who was lying at the end of the bed, raises his head.

"Stay here, Much." Ana whispers, glancing out to the hallway once more. "I'll be right back."

Much lets out a soft whine but lowers his head on his paws as his owner ducks out the room. Ana tiptoes down the long hallway as she makes her way towards Roderick's chamber. Normally, the knights would share a sleeping quarters but, after he had been assigned as her private guard, she had been able to convince her father to give him a private chamber close to hers to "keep an eye on her" in case of danger. Sticking to the shadows, she makes it to his room and looks around before knocking on the door. She shifts anxiously from one foot to the other as she waits until finally the door opens.

"Ana!" He says, his brows shooting up in surprise. Peeking his head out the door, he looks around before motioning her in and shuts the door. "My love, what are yo—" He turns around and stops mid-sentence as she loosens the strings on the chest of her nightgown. She had already discarded her robe on the nearby chair and smirks at him as she beckons him over.

A grin starts to form on Roderick's face as his eyes move over the womanly curves of his lover's body. "Did anybody see you?" He asks as he steps toward her. As he draws closer, he strips off his own shirts and drops them to the rug before taking her face in his hands. His lips find hers and their lips move in sync before he pulls away to meet her gaze. Deep within those electric blue eyes, he saw that desire that matched his own. "Mm, you smell lovely..." His thumb grazes her soft jawline. "Have you changed your mind?"

She raises a brow. "About?"

"My proposal." He says, practically growling as he leans forward to nip at her jaw. "It would make these meetings easier and less risky." His hands rove from their place on her hips to her waist. He could feel his growing arousal beginning to press against the thin fabric of his trousers as he envisioned the soft, creamy skin beneath the fabric of her night gown. "Just imagine it, my love. As your husband, I could visit your chambers every night and nobody could say a thing about it."

Placing a hand on his chest, she leads him back towards the bed. "Yes, but sneaking around and sleeping together in secret is way more exciting." She purrs. As the back of his legs graze the edge of the bed, Ana's hands had already travelled lower and were working on loosening the strings of his trousers. Playfully, she shoves him back on the bed and bites her lips as he looks up at her. "Besides, as soon as we were married, my parents would expect grandchildren." Pulling the neckline down, exposing her bare shoulders, she shoots him a mischievous grin before shrugging it off. As it falls to the floor, she stands there as Roderick's eyes move from her face, down her neck, across her pert breasts and her flat, taut stomach to the downy patch of hair between her legs.

As he watches her, he feels his heart quicken. "Maker, you're beautiful." He breathes. As she walks toward him, he grins. "I'll never understand how I became so lucky to have such a woman like you."

Kneeling on the bed between his legs, which dangles over the edge, she slowly crawls over him so that her naked body hovers above his. His hands instinctively reached up, caressing the smooth curves of her body, pausing once to tuck a rogue lock of dark brown hair that had fallen out of her braid behind her ear. His eyes move over her elegant face, the candle on the little table beside the bed warming the color of her fair skin and making her eyes glow. She sits up, straddling his lap as his half-hard cock twitches beneath the fabric barrier.

"Tell me..." She says as he sits up, wrapping his arms around her. The rough stubble of his jaw rubbing against her skin as he kisses down the center of her chest. His hand cups her right breast, his calloused fingers circling around the already hardened nipple.

"Hm?" He mutters.

"Would you really want to give this up?" She asks, cutting off with a moan as he takes it in his mouth, the heat of his breath and the playful licks around the sensitive nubs sending excited chills down her spine.

He continues his teasing, alternating until they're tender and swollen from her lover's attention before reaching below her nightgown with practiced hands. Every so often, he'd reach down and rub lazy circles into her slit, making her press her hips forward with whispered pleas. He grins, he's loving every moment of this playful torture.

He flips her so she's pinned beneath him. He nips at her neck, pinning her arms as she squirms as his fingers run over her slick folds, pressing just enough to barely sink his fingers in. She pushes her hips forward and he pulls away, earning an annoyed groan.

"Rory..." Ana mutters, her eyes meeting his with a pleading expression.

"You still have yet to give me a definite answer, my love." He teases, his voice thick wth desire.

"That's not fair." She pouts. "What if I say no?"

His fingers stop as he frowns. "Is that your answer?" He releases her and sits as she springs up into an upright position beside him. "After all this time and all this, you don't want to get married?"

"At this very moment? No." Ana frowns. She shifts to face him, placing a hand on his thigh as she meets his saddened gaze. "Rory... I love you and marrying you some day would make me the happiest woman in the world but..." She sighs. "I doubt my father would like that. If it were up to him, I would already be betrothed! He already had a possible suitor."

Roderick's gaze darkens. "Who? Nathaniel Howe?"

Ana shrugs. "Some boy from the Free Marches. Leon Trevelyan, I believe." She reaches up to touch his face as her eyes search his. "It doesn't matter. I love you and, if the Maker is kind, we'll marry someday. For now..." Offering him a smile, she straddles his lap once more, encircling her arms around his neck. "Let's just enjoy being young and in love."

"Fine." He sighs, reaching up to cup her cheek. His thumb traces her full lower lip. "Then how about this..." He looks into her eyes. "I, Roderick Gilmore, vow here and now, to be with you, Analise Cousland, and only you as long as I live."

She bites her lip with a grin. "Are you promising yourself to me?"

"I am." He grins. "If you're not ready for marriage yet, I will at least pledge myself to you until you are."

She presses her hips forward, the head of his cock pressing against her slit from beneath the fabric barrier. He lets out a small groan before looking up at her with lust-filled eyes. "You minx." He smirks. She giggles as their lips meet and he flips her over once more.

As he fumbles with his trousers, there's a sharp rap on the door that makes them stop. Ana gasps as her eyes widen. Roderick puts a finger to his lips to make sure she stays quiet as he crawls back off the bed. "One moment!" He calls. He quickly picks up his discarded shirts and pulls them back on, motioning for Ana to put her nightgown and robe back on as he heads toward the door. As he gets close, he waits a moment before Ana has a chance to pull her robe on before he opens the door just enough to speak with the squire on the other side.

"Sorry for disturbing you, Ser." The boy says. "Have you seen Lady Ana? I found her dog wandering the halls."

Muttering under her breath, she rushes over to the door and pulls it open, ignoring the squires surprise as she looks down. "Much! There you are!"

"M'lady!" The squire exclaims, bowing. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean— "

"Thank you so much for finding him!" Ana says, kneeling to hug her hound, receiving happy licks in return. "He disappeared from my room and I was so worried!" She lies, "I came here to see if Ser Gilmore had seen him, a few moments before you arrived."

The squire looks between them. "You're very welcome, M'lady. He was sniffing around the servants' quarters when I saw him."

"Thank you again, Nico." Roderick nods. "You can head to bed. I'll escort Lady Ana back to her room."

The squire's cheeks redden as he nods. "Of course." He bows to Ana. "Goodnight M'lady."

As the squire leaves, Roderick closes the door behind them and emits a sigh of relief. "Maker, that was close." He frowns.

Ana frowns at Much. "What are you doing here? I told you I'd be right back!" Much bows his head with a whine. Ana scratched him behind his ears. "You're lucky I love you."

He gives a short bark and is instantly shushed by his owner. Sighing, she stands up and walks over to Roderick. Pulling her into an embrace, he rests his forehead against hers. "I guess I should probably take you back to your room." He mutters. "I wish you could sleep here beside me."

"I know." She frowns. Cupping his stubbled jaw, she presses a kiss to his lips. Their kiss deepens until Much gives a low bark which makes them separate.

"Okay!" Ana groans. "So impatient."

Roderick chuckles as he opens the door and motions for them to go. Much runs ahead and waits just outside the door as Ana exits the room with Ser Gilmore in tow.

As they reach her room, Ana lets Much back into the room before turning to face Ser Gilmore.

"Thank you again for finding my dog." She says, in case a guard is patrolling nearby. "For such a kind act, you should be rewarded!"

She turns from him to walk into the room. "That's really not necessary..." He says, stepping into the room. He's instantly cut off as she turns and pulls him into a kiss, pushing the door closed enough to conceal them. He hesitantly wraps his arms around her and begins to deepen the kiss before she pulls away, sporting a huge grin.

"Goodnight, Ser Gilmore." She says as she leads him to the door. As he steps out I into the hallway, she leans against her door. Letting her robe fall open, he sees her creamy breast through her thin nightgown in the light of the nearby torch. Feeling the blood begin to rush downwards, he clears his throat.

"Yes... goodnight Lady Ana."


	2. The Grey Warden

Ana stared out the window, watching the raindrops trickle down from the middle of the tall windows.

"Lady Ana!" Aldous, the resident historian and tutor of Castle Cousland, snaps. "Were you listening?"

Turning to face her tutor, she stares at him with a disinterested expression. "Yes."She sighs.

His eyes narrow skeptically. "Oh? Care to repeat what I said?"

She idly drags her fingers over the closed cover of Families of Thedas. "Something about the Couslands." She gives a half-hearted shrug.

Seeing her blatant disinterest, Aldous sighs heavily. "What I said was that for generations, your family, the Couslands, have ruled over the lands of Highever. Your family is known for and has earned the loyalty of your people by ruling with justice and temperance."

Ana rolls her eyes. "I'm aware of how my family is received by the peasants. We're loved!"

"You are." He nods. "Do you remember how your family took power?"

"When the Orlesian Empire occupied my country, my father and grandfather served the embattled kings of Ferelden."

Surprised she remembered some of her lessons, he smiles. "Very good. And who serves the crown in your family in these times of the oncoming Blight?"

"My brother, Fergus." She frowns. "Only, instead of fighting against Orlais like our ancestors did, he's going to be riding out soon to join King Cailan's army at Gwaren."

"Not Gwaren." He corrects. "The King is camped out in Ostagar."

Ana gives a nonchalant shrug. "Does it matter? I overheard some men at dinner last night say that this might not be an actual Blight. Sure, there's darkspawn crawling about on the surface but that's not unheard of." She straightens. "After All, the deep roads are full of them! There's a good chance that some found their way to the surface and spooked some peasants, who do what all peasants do, which is lie. I bet the ones who brought the news to light were drunk or lying around doing nothing."

Hearing her pompous statements, Aldous frowns. "Now, now Lady Ana. Keep in mind that these peasants are the ones that you and your family serve."

Ana scoffs. "Serve?" She straightens and narrows her eyes at the older man. "They serve us. My father is Teyrn and he answers to no man but the King."

"That's not-"

"And," she interrupts, her tone growing more tense with each word. "I am the Teyrn's daughter and youngest child. I do not rule over the thieves and farmers. I am merely a vessel which can be traded and sold to men so that I may produce children." She slumps back in her seat, shooting him a contemptuous look. "What's the point of all this?"

Aldous opens his mouth to reassure her that this is not entirely true when there's a sharp rap on the nearby door. Both of them look over to the doorway where Ser Gilmore stands. He gives a small bow. "Forgive me, Aldous" He says, his gaze staying on the older man. "There's a bit of an issue regarding Lady Ana's mabari that requires her assistance."

Rising from her seat, she walks over to him, her brows creased. "What's wrong? Did something happen to Much?"

Ser Gilmore nods before raising his brows at her tutor.

"Go on." Aldous sighs, giving them a dismissive wave as he takes a seat at the table. "We can continue later."

Ana follows Roderick out into the hallway, waiting until he shuts the door behind them before turning to face him. "What's happened?" She asks with a worried frown.

He shoots her an amused grin. "Nothing too dire. He has the kitchens in a bit of an uproar again. Nan has caught him in the larder and is threatening to quit."

"Are they incapable of just shutting the doors?" She sneers. "What do they expect? He's a dog who, when he sniffs out food, has to go find it."

"No matter how hard the kitchen maids try to keep him out, he finds another way back in." He shrugs, giving her a smirk. "You know how mabari hounds are. He'll listen to his mistress but anybody else runs the risk of having their arm bit off."

"Much bite an arm off?" She snorts. "He's far too friendly for that."

"He growls at Howe a lot." Roderick points out.

She grins evilly. "That's because he looks like a rat."

Roderick laughs as he motions off in the direction of the kitchens. "Regardless, your mother sent me to accompany you until the matter is settled. So, shall we?"

Ana nods and they begin walking down the long hallway, barely talking as servants, guests and guards alike occasionally pass them. Finally, Roderick decides to make conversation.

All we have to do is follow the yelling." He chuckles. "As you know, when Nan is unhappy, she lets everyone know it."

"Oh, I know that." Ana matters, rolling her eyes. "When one of her elven kitchen maids spilled something, I could hear her ranting and raving from two rooms away!"

They turn the corner and the faint yelling in the distance grows louder.

"I don't know if you've heard but there's a Grey Warden here at the castle." He says, shooting her an eager grin. "I've heard he's recruiting." Ana stops walking and, when he notices, Roderick stops as well. "What is it?"

"Are you thinking about joining?" She frowns. "You want to leave me?"

"What? No! Of course not! I-" One of the patrolling guards pass them and he gently grabs the back of her elbow and leads her away onto an empty nearby corridor. He lowers his voice. "Of course, I don't want to leave you." He frowns, gently brushing her cheek. "I love you."

"But?" She asks, knowing it's coming. "Does this have to do with last night? When I said I didn't want to get married right now?"

He sighs. "Kind of." Seeing her hurt expression, he rushes to explain. "I'm not doing it to spite you, my love." He says gently. "As you know, I'm a knight but my father is a minor lord in the Bannorn and our land is a glorified farmstead."

Ana holds back a grimace and waits for him to get to the point.

"If we do get to marry in the future," He says, grabbing her hand. "I want to be able to provide a life worthy of a woman like you. To do that, I need to do more and raise my status. By joining and fighting along the Grey Wardens, I can build a reputation and maybe even move up in station if the King is pleased with what I do." He offers her a smile. "Then I can come home to you a hero."

Hearing the idle chatter coming from down the hall running perpendicular to the one they're in, Roderick removes his hands from her and steps back slightly, straightening,

She turns away from him with a pout. "Do you even know anything about the Grey Wardens?" She asks.

He shrugs. "Only what everyone hears. With there being so few of them here in Ferelden, it's hard to find the opportunity to see one."

She turns away from him and starts walking. He quickly falls into step, his eyes trained on her as though trying to read her expression. "Well, I've seen how skilled you are when it comes to wielding a sword." She muses. "I've heard that they only recruit the most skilled warriors."

He nods. "So, I've heard. It would be quite disappointing if that proved to be false."

The walk at a leisurely pace, ignoring the shouts and occasional crashes that come from the kitchens. "Have you ever seen a darkspawn?" She asks, shooting him an incredulous look. "That is, after all, what they're known for fighting, correct?"

He hesitates for a moment. "Yes..." he nods. "I admit that I've never see a darkspawn. You hear about them attacking homesteads and travelers but, admittedly, I thought they were just stories." He frowns. "There was a guardsman who returned a while back who encountered them. The way he described them was something out of a nightmare!"

"Then why enlist?" She asks. She looks at him, the sadness evident in her electric blue eyes. "I've heard that once you join, that's it. There'll be no coming back." She feels the tears prickle her eyes as they start to form. "If you join, we can never marry let alone see each other again!"

He opens his mouth to speak when a loud crash sounds from the kitchens. "We'll have to discuss this later." He says. "We should hurry."

Together, they take off towards the sound. Bursting through the door of the kitchen, they hear Much's barks from the other side of the larder door while Nan stands before it, her hands on her hips as she glares at the two elven servants before her. Their heads remain cast downward, looking off to the side of them as Ana and Roderick enter the room.

"Get that bloody mutt out of the larder!" Nan hisses, pointing to the larder door.

The female elf keeps her head down. "But mistress, it won't let us near it!"

"If I can't get into that larder, I'll skin both you useless elves, I swear it!" She growls, apparently oblivious to their presence.

"Um...calm down, good woman." Roderick says softly, attempting to quell the tension mounting. "We've come to help."

The older woman turns to them, pointing an accusing finger at both them in turn. "You and you!" She shoots Ana a glare. "Your bloody mongrel keeps getting into my larder! That beast should be put down!"

Ana's eyes narrow. "Excuse you?" She scowls. "Actually, that's my larder since this is my father's castle. I'd watch that tongue of yours before it gets cut out!" She smirks as the woman's eyes widen. "Or perhaps you should be put down! You are getting up there in age after all."

Nan purses her lips, fuming. "Just get him out of there." She growls. "We have a castle full of hungry soldiers and we need to get into the larder so we can get started on feeding them." Turning on her heel, she points to the two elves. "You two! Stop standing around like idiots and get out of their way!"

The three of them walk off to the side as Roderick and Ana approach the door. They exchange a glance before she pushes it open and enter. Assorted vegetables line the shelves and tables as they glance down at Much who paces back and forth, his snout lowered to the ground as if on a scent trail.

"What are you doing, boy?" Ana asks, watching as he walks over to a pile of grain sacks. He lifts his nose from the floor before tilting his head at it.

She frowns. "Are you hungry?" She asks, walking toward him. He gives a sharp bark and Roderick comes to stand beside her.

"I think he may have found something." He says, watching the dog as he nudges the sacks with his nose. "He smells something..." He looks down at Much. "Is there something behind the sacks, boy?"

Much barks excitedly. Unsheathing his sword, he holds out a protective arm before a confused Ana. "Shut the door and stay behind me." He says. She quickly does as he says and, as soon as the door shuts, he starts walking over to the sacks. Kneeling before the pile, he starts to remove the sacks, his sword poised for whatever danger loomed behind them. One by one, he moves the sacks until finally he makes a sound of surprise.

"What is it?" Ana calls from near the door.

Roderick turns to look at her. "There's a hole." He says, grimly. "Looks like there's-"

"Rats!" Ana exclaims as two run past Roderick from the hole in the wall. Moving away from the door, she jumps up on the table, spilling a couple potatoes onto the floor in her haste. "Kill them! Kill them!" She shouts.

She watches as Much and Roderick dispatch of the two rats and the 4 others that run out. Once the rats are a gory mess all over the larder floor, Ana's eyes scan the ground beneath her perch. "Is that all of them?"

Much walks over to the hole, sniffing before giving an affirmative bark. Roderick sheathes his sword and walks over to her and offers her a hand to get back down. "I think it's safe now, my love." He says. She hesitantly takes his hand and allows him to help her down before smoothing down her dress. "Are you alright?" He asks.

She nods. "Yeah..." She scrunches up her nose. "Ugh. Disgusting!"

"Seems like Much here wasn't raiding larder at all." Roderick says, casting a glance at a bloodied Much. "They looked like the rats from the Korcari Wilds. Best not to tell Nan; She's upset as it is."

"Is it settled?" They hear from the other side of the door.

Holding out a hand, Roderick motions toward the door. "We should get out there to let her know that the situation has been handled."

She nods and takes his hand. "Korcari Wilds? That's quite a ways away. How did they get up here?" She frowns.

Roderick shrugs. "Who knows? Careful where you step." Guiding her around the gore on the floor, they make it to the door. Releasing each other's hand,they exit with Much in tow.

"Well?" Nan asks. "Is it settled then?"

"Yes, it's settled." Roderick nods. "Sorry about the mess."

"What mess?" Nan fumes. Seeing Much, she crosses her arms over her chest. "Ah! There he is! As brazen as he please! Licking his chops after getting into the roast no doubt!"

"Watch what you say." Ana growls. "If it wasn't for Much here, you'd have a lot more to gripe about. Much was sniffing out the rats."

Nan's eyes widen. "Rats?"

Ana nods, a smug grin creeping up. "Yeah...big ones."

"Rats?!" The female elf exclaims. "Where they grey?"

Roderick nods and the male elf exclaims, "Those rip you to shreds!"

"Then you can thank Much and Ser Gilmore. They killed them all." Ana turns to Nan with a sneer. "So, go on; Apologize."

"What?" Nan squawks. "For what?"

"For being rude to Much." Ana sneers, motioning to her dog. "Go on. Apologize to him."

The old woman scowls at him. "I bet that bloody dog led them in there in the first place!"

Much whines and Ana shakes her head. "Not unless he traveled to the Korcari Wilds without me. That's where those rats were from!"

"Oh no!" The elven woman cries.

Nan sighs. "Great...now you've gone and scared the servants!"

Much whines once more and Ana opens her mouth to berate her again before Nan directs her attention to Much. "Don't even try it." She says, flatly. "I'm immune to your so-called charms."

Much whines again making her sigh. "Fine." She walks over to the table where they were preparing the food and returns with a couple chunks of meat. She tosses them on the floor before him. "There. You can have some pork bits. Now you can never say Nan never gives you anything."

Much gives her an appreciative bark before he wolfs down the meat. Nan shakes her head, wrinkling her nose as she watches him. "Bloody dog." Ana hears her mutter before she turns to look at her and Roderick. "Thank you again, My Lady." She bows her head to her than Roderick. "And you, Ser Gilmore. Now we can get back to work."

Roderick frowns. "You might want to clean up the larder first since that's where the food is."

Nan glances at the larder with a heavy sigh before turning to the servants. "You two! Quit standing about." She snaps, motioning to the larder. "Go get that cleaned up so we can return to preparing the food."

The male elf sneers at her as he starts leading his shaken female counterpart towards the room, muttering under his breath. "Miserable old bat."

"Old bat, am I?" She snaps. "We'll have to work double time to get a suitable dinner prepared for the Teyrn and his guests. So, get to it and no complaining!"

The servants walk into the larder and the woman gives a scared squeak which is instantly hushed by the man. Nan turns back to us, the tired lines in her face showing her age. "Just keeping order up." She says, as if trying to explain her previous outburst. "That's why your father keeps me around." She gives Ana a tight-lipped smile. "After all, you're a grown woman of eighteen now. You no longer have me chasing after and taking care of you." Her expression softens a little. "Thank you again for coming to your old nanny's rescue."

Before Ana has a chance to reply to her sudden display of affection, Nan's brows crease as she points to Much, who lazily licks the remaining meat juice from the floor. "That blasted hound is more trouble than he's worth! He is!"

At the mention of him, Much raises his head and whines.

"Don't start with me." Nan says, her tone losing some of its bite. "You've got all you're getting today." She turns to look at Ana. "And what about you, My Lady? Keeping yourself safe and behaving well I hope?"

"I've been staying safe," Ana nods, a smirk forming. "But well behaved? That would be far too boring."

"Of course." Nan snorts. "That's exactly why you made your nanny old before her time!" She chuckles. "Do you remember that old bedtime tale I used to tell you about the dog that bit?"

"Maker," Ana groans, rolling her eyes. "Not this again..."

"Do you?" Nan chides.  
"Of course I do." Ana sighs, placing a protective hand on Much's head. "How could I forget? You told me the story the night I got Much and each night after that."

"And? Do you remember the moral of the story?"

"I do but, unfortunately, we really need to get going, Nan." Ana says quickly, walking back towards the door. "Perhaps another time?"

Nan purses her lips as she watches Ana begin to leave. Before Nan could say another word, she ducks out the room and is shortly followed by Roderick and Much.

The door shuts behind her and she leans against the wall. "Maker... did you see the size of those rats?" She frowns. "How did they even get here?"

Roderick shrugs. "I have no idea but I should go report to your mother to tell her that that crisis was averted." He offers her a smile. "You should probably return to your lesson. I imagine Aldous will not be happy with you idly roaming the castle."

Ana snorts. "What's he going to do? The old bat can barely stay awake for an entire lesson. Besides, I should look for Fergus. He's leaving for Ostagar tonight and I would like to say goodbye."

"The last I saw him, he was speaking with your father in the great hall."

"Then that's where I shall begin my search." Smiling, Ana looks around before sneaking a quick peck on his lips. "Tonight?"

His lips curl up into a smirk. "Of course, My Lady." Turning on his heel, he marches back down the hallway, leaving Ana to watch him before making her way towards the hall with Much walking alongside her. Passing servant and guard alike, they mutter an acknowledgement as she passes which she ignores. As she draws near to the door, she catches a part of the conversation between her father and somebody else.

"I trust, then, that your troops will be here shortly?" Bryce asks, standing before the large fire pit with his hands clasped behind him, staring into the flames as they lick at the logs.

Rendon Howe fidgets beside his longtime friend, anxiously glancing at the doors as though a horde of darkspawn were waiting to burst in at any moment. He clears his throat. "I expect they will start arriving tonight and we can march tomorrow." He glances at the richly embroidered fabric that hung over the Teyrn's trim form as he turns to look at him. Howe bows his head. "I apologize for the delay, my lord. This is entirely my fault." His eyes flick over to the guards nearby who stare straight ahead.

Bryce shakes his head. "No, no." He walks over to Howe and clasps his shoulder, offering his friend a smile. "Do not fret, my friend. The appearance of darkspawn in the south has caught us all off guard." His smile falters. "I was surprised to receive the summons from the king only days ago." His hand drops as he lets out a sigh. Just by looking at him, one can tell the impact the news of the blight has had on him. With the preparations being made for the upcoming march and ensuring that everything was in order for their return, the excitement has begun to wear on him making him look at least ten years older.

"I'm sending my eldest off with my men." He says with a grin. "You and I will ride tomorrow, just like the old days!"

"True." Howe drawls. "Though we were much younger then, with less grey in our hair. Also we were fighting Orlesians, not...monsters." He frowns.

The door opens at the far end of the hall and Ana enters the room. Seeing only Bryce, Howe and a few guards, she frowns.

"At least the smell will be the same." Bryce chuckles, turning to greet his daughter. "Ah, there you are, pup!" He grins. "I was going to speak with you later but I'm glad you're here." He glances down at Much. "And I see you brought your faithful protector as well."

Much gives him a happy bark which makes him chuckle.

Ana raises a brow, her eyes flicking to Howe as Bryce places a hand on her shoulder as she comes to stand beside him. He beams at her. "Howe," He says, glancing to the other man. "you remember my daughter, Ana?"

Much lets out a low growl at Howe, who scowls at him. Ana touches his head. "Calm down, boy."

Howe smiles politely at her. "I see she's become a lovely young woman." He says, bowing his head. "Pleased to see you again, my dear."

Plastering a smile on her face, she bows her head. "A pleasure as always, Arl Howe." She turns her head to speak with her father but is cut off by Howe.

"My son, Thomas, asked after you. Perhaps I should bring him with me next time."

She frowns, glancing at her father. "To what end? He's only a boy!"

Both men laugh but her frown remains in place. "Ha!" Howe grins. "To what end", she says!" He glances at Bryce. "So glib too. She's just like her mother."

"I wish you wouldn't speak about me as though I'm not here." Ana mutter, irritably.

Ignoring her comment, Bryce smiles at her. "See what I contend with, Howe?" He teases, reaching up to touch her cheek affectionately. "There's no telling my fierce girl anything these days. Maker bless her heart."

"Quite talented, I'm sure." Howe nods. For a flicker of moment, his fake smile falters. It reappears so quickly that, for a moment, Ana is unsure if she actually saw it. "One to watch."

Her eyes narrow slightly as she watches him. There's something in his tone that unsettles her but she couldn't place what. She pushes it from her mind.

"Anyways, Pup, as I was saying, I'm glad you're here." Bryce smiles. "I have something big to ask of you."

With Howe's mention of Thomas, her brows knit together. "Oh?"

Bryce nods. "While your brother and I are away, I'm leaving you in charge of the castle."

She gapes at him. "Me? Surely mother is more fit for such a task? She is, after all, the Teyrna."

"Pup, I know this is no small thing I ask of you. There will be a small group of men remaining here for your protection if that's what you're worried about. Maker forbid, if something were to happening to Fergus and I, you'd be next in line."

Ana feels Howe's stare and ignores it. "I'm not worried about my safety." She frowns. "I'm just confused about why me, of all people! I have no actual experience of managing a castle!"

"I know that," Bryce insists. "But this will be your time to learn! You'll need to keep peace in the region while I'm gone. You know what they say about the mice when the cat is away."

"But father..."

Bryce holds up a hand. "Enough, Ana. My decision is final." His expression softens as he looks at his daughter's panicked expression. Stepping toward her, he takes her face in his hands. "Your mother will be here to assist you, if you need it. You can do this, Pup." A guard walks up to them, muttering an apology as he whispers something in Bryce's ear. He nods, thanking him. Dropping his hands, he smiles. "Also, there's someone you must meet." Before she can ask what he means, he turns away from her and motions to the guard near the door. "Please... show Duncan in."

Her brows crease. "Duncan?" She asks. "Father, if this is another su—" She starts to say but trails off as a man, probably close to her father's age and donned in plate mail with a large eagle emblem embossed on the chest enters the room. His tanned face is set in a solemn expression as he walks toward them, his dark hair pulled back from his face in a small ponytail. His face is moderately lined and there's a bit of greying in his beard and at his temples but, even for a man of his age, he's quite handsome.

"It's an honor to be a guest within your hall, Teyrn Cousland." The man says, his voice deep and laced with a Rivaini accent. Turning his head, his dark eyes land on Ana and he offers her a small smile before bowing his head to her. "Lady Ana, I presume." He says. "A pleasure to meet you."

Howe's eyes widen as he looks Duncan over. "Your lordship, you didn't mention that a Grey Warden would be present." He says with a frown.

"Duncan arrived just recently, unannounced." Bryce shrugs. "Is there a problem?" He raises a brow.

"Of course not!" Howe exclaims. Both Ana and Duncan turn to look at him and he clears his throat. "I just mean that a guest of his stature and rank demands certain protocol." His eyes flick to Duncan. "I am...at a disadvantage."

"No need to worry. I doubt that Duncan will be saying long? If he does, Ana will be sure to make the necessary preparations for him while we're gone." Turning to look at his daughter, whose gaping at him, he smiles. "Isn't that right, Pup?"

"I, uh..." She stammers.  
Seeing his daughter's discomfort, he continues. "It's rare when we have the pleasure of having a Grey Warden in our midst, Duncan." Bryce grins. "Please forgive our surprise."

"It's quite alright, my lord." Duncan says with a slight nod.

Bryce turns to Ana. "Pup, Brother Aldous taught you who the Grey Wardens are, correct?"

As all men's eyes turn to her, her cheeks redden. "Um...yes, I believe so." She mutters, thinking back to her conversation she had earlier with Roderick. When she and Rory were talking about it, she knew what she was talking about but yet now, as Duncan's eyes watched her, she found herself drawing a blank. "Um...They're skilled warriors, right?" She asks, lamely.

"That's right." Bryce nods. "They are the heroes from the legends. They are renown for ending the Blights and saving us all."

"Right!" Ana nods. "So," She glances at Duncan. "What brings you here?"

"He's here looking for recruits to join the Grey Wardens and fight in the South alongside the King." Bryce answers. Hearing this, Ana feels her stomach knot up as she knows what he's about to say next. "I believe he has his eye on your guard, Ser Gilmore."

She closes her eyes as she suddenly feels like she's been hit in the gut. Noticing this, Bryce frowns. "Pup, are you alright?" He touches her arm and she opens her eyes to look up at him with a fake smile.

"Of course! I guess something at dinner didn't agree with me."

"Are you sure?" He asks. "Perhaps you should go lie down."

"No, I'm fine." She insists, even as she begins to feel a bit lightheaded.

"Very well." He nods. His head swivels to look at Duncan. "Will you be saying long?"

"A day or two." Duncan nods. "There's another young man I would like to speak with from your guard ranks, if you don't mind."

"Not at all!" Bryce turns back to Ana. "You'll see that Duncan's needs are seen to while I'm gone?" She nods. "That's my girl." He beams. "If you haven't already, I recommend that you go say goodbye to Fergus. He should be leaving fairly soon and it'll be a while before you see him again."

"That's actually why I came." Ana says. "I was told that he was here speaking with you. Do you have any idea where he might be?"

"In his chambers upstairs, no doubt spending some last moments with his wife and my grandson." He smirks. "Hopefully in time, you too will have a husband and chi—"

"Right." Ana cuts him off. "Thank you. I'll go find him." Saying goodbye to the three of them, she calls to Much and quickly heads out the door.

Chuckling, Bryce turns back to the two men." Now then, where were we?"


	3. Farewell, Brother

Heading down the hallway toward the staircase that leads up to the upper chambers, Ana spots Brother Aldous at the end as he turns to ask a guard if he's seen her. Quickly, she ducks into a nearby room and shuts the door. As soon as she enters, she quickly notices that she's not alone. She straightens as the two guards, who are sitting at the table with a deck of cards and a couple small piles of coins, jump up. Their cards spill onto the table. "Oh!" One of them exclaims, his eyes widening. "My Lady, we were just...uh..."

Raising her chin, she sneers at them. "Just what? Ignoring your duties and playing a card game? Isn't there something you should be doing?" She crosses her arms over her chest. "Perhaps my father should hear about this."

"No!" The other one exclaims, receiving an annoyed glare from his companion.

"What he means," He says, looking up at her. "The treasury's safe... I'm not even sure why the Teyrn stationed us here..."

She narrows her eyes. "Is that so? Do you always question your duties? If so, I'm sure we can find a suitable replacement for you."

"No, my lady! Of course not!"

She smirks, enjoying watching them squirm. "Good answer. Perhaps you should get back to work then? I'm sure my father had a reason to have you guard the Treasury." They stand there for a moment, gaping at her. "Well? Get to it!"

The men scramble to pick up their cards and coin before muttering an apology as they scuffle out the door. She looks at the door which they just went through and bites her lip. She doesn't want to risk running into her tutor and end up explaining why she didn't return after tending to the Much situation. Looking around, she walks over to one of the walls and feels around for the familiar lever. "Come on..." She mutters to herself. "Where are you?"

Her hands move over the cool stone wall and along the frame of the portrait with Ana's grandfather, William Cousland, posed with his white and brown mabari by his side. She lets out a triumphant noise as her hand finds the latch and pulls. A small section of the wall, concealed by a tapestry, pops out earning a concerned bark from Much.

"It's okay, boy." She grins, grabbing the protruding stone and using her strength to pull it over enough for them to go through. She motions with her head. "Come on."

Much whines and she rolls her eyes. "Come on, Much. Stop being a scaredy cat! We've been in here a few times before, remember? This leads out to the gardens and we can take the side passage up to Fergus."

Another whine and low bark.

"Seriously?" She shrugs. "Fine then. You stay here. Then if I get attacked by a giant rat—"

He barks and runs over to her.

"That's what I thought!" She chuckles, moving aside so he can go through. "In you go!"

He goes inside the dark passageway and lets out a low bark which resonates off the walls of the long passageway. Coming up behind him, she slides the wall back into place until she hears a faint click. Turning around, she stares into the darkness, groping around until she finds Much's head and grabs his collar. "Come on." She says, starting to walk. "I'll lead the way."

Listening to her footsteps in the dark, she focuses on imagining the layout of the passage in her mind. Her hand moves along the wall as Much lets out a small whine. "Almost there." She says. Within moments, she sees the faint light coming from outside coming through the cracks of the door. "Aha!" She smiles. "We're here." Releasing Much's collars, she feels for the side and pulls the heavy stone section to reveal the gardens. The sun is already beginning to set, leaving the greenery in a dusky light. Much quickly runs through the opening as Ana hisses for him to wait. Quickly exiting the passage, she closes it up once more, cursing under her breath before running after him. "Much! Come back!' She calls, her voice travelling over the faint talking of people nearby. She rounds the corner and almost collides with a young man. She looks up, ready to apologize when she sees the familiar face of Dairren.

"Dairren!" She gasps, her eyes widening. "What are you-"

"Ah, here's my lovely daughter now."

Hearing her mother's voice, she turns to look at her. "Yes Mother?" She smiles sweetly. As she says this she hears a short bark and looks down to see Much lying down beside her mother's feet. "There you are! You're a naughty boy!" As soon as she says it, her face reddens. From the corner of her eye, she sees Dairren try to conceal a smile. Beside him stands his mother, Lady Landra, and a young fair-skinned woman with light blonde hair, who both smile politely.

Her mother frowns. "Seeing as your troublesome hound of yours is here, I take it that Ser Gilmore found you and the kitchen issue has been handled?"

"Yes." Ana nods. "It's been handled, Nan has been calmed down and is back to work."

"You've always has a way with her." Her mother chuckles. She glances at her guests before motioning to them. "Darling, you remember Lady Landra? Bann Loren's wife?"

"Of course!" Ana nods, bowing her head to her. She forces a smile. "It's good to see you again, Lady Landra."

Landra mimics her head bow. "Likewise. You've grown into quite a lovely young woman, Lady Ana." She smiles. "If I remember correctly, we last met at your mother's spring salon a couple years ago."

Images of a drunken Landra, leaning against tables and walls, slurring about marriage come to mind but she plasters a smile on her face. "I believe so. We were honored for you to come."

"You're too kind, dear girl." She laughs. "Didn't I spend half the salon trying to convince you to marry my son?"

Feeling Dairren's heated gaze, Ana nods. "Yes, you did."

"And made a very poor case for it, I might add." He jokes, shooting Ana a smile. There's no doubt that they both remembered very well what happened that night. "Had she the power, I'm sure my mother would have married us on the spot."

"That's still a possibility!" Landra exclaims. "Dairren is still not married!"

Nervous laughter emit from youths before Dairren clears his throat. "Don't listen to her. I can assure you that I come here, not as a suitor, but to assist your father."

Ana's brows furrow. "My father?"

Dairren nods. "Yes. I'm to ride out with your father tomorrow as his second. It's truly an honor."

She gives him a polite yet unimposing smile before his mother motions to the woman beside her. "This is my lady-in-waiting, Iona."

Iona bows her head and Landra purses her lips. "Do say something, dear." She says, pointedly.

"It's a great pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady." She says, her voice soft and just above a whisper. "The tales told of your beauty was not exaggerated." She smiles and as Ana thanks her, noting the side-eye given to her by Dairren.

"You would think that being such an intelligent and beautiful girl, making a match for her would be easier." Ana's mother frowns. "Yet as she grows older, it's become more difficult!"

"Perhaps she simply has a mind of her own, your ladyship." Dairren offers, shooting Ana a smile. "You should be proud of her."

She sighs. "Proud won't get me any more grandchildren."

"Mother..." Ana groans, resisting to roll her eyes. Feeling the tension growing between the mother and daughter, Landra quickly speaks up.

"It's been quite a long day. I think I shall go rest for a while, my dear." She turns and places a hand on her friend's arm. "Thank you again for a tour of your gardens, Eleanor. We'll speak later?"

"Of course." Eleanor smiles.

Landra turns to look at her son. "Dairren, stay out of trouble." She teases with a grin.

"Always do, Mother."

As she and Iona dismiss themselves and head back towards the keep. Dairren reaches for Ana's hand and kisses it before peering up at her. "I'm going to speak with your father about tomorrow. I shall see you later?"

Feeling her mother's gaze, she smiles and nods. "Of course."

Leaving her with her mother, she peers suspiciously at the older woman as she watches the young man leave. "Fine young man." Eleanor muses.

"Mother, no."

Eleanor turns to her daughter, her brows creasing. "No what?"

"I'm not going to marry him."

"I didn't say anything." She says defensively.

"You didn't have to." Ana crosses her arms over her chest. "I saw the way you looked at us. I refuse!"

She frowns. "And why is that? You two were so close when you saw each other two years ago. Besides, he's a handsome young man from a good family..."

"Mother, please." She touches her mother's hand. "I'm not ready for marriage. Maybe in a year but for now, I just want to enjoy my youth."

A frown tugs at the corners of Eleanor's mouth as she reaches up to touch her daughter's cheek. "Yes, youth is a rare and beautiful thing." She sighs. "My darling girl... how quickly you've grown up. I still remember when I used to walk around the gardens with you when you were little. Do you remember that?"

A memory sweeps in like a wave from the dark recesses of her mind, making her smile. "I do. We'd walk around and you'd point out the different types of flowers as we passed then we'd sit below one of the trees while you read to me."

"Yes." Eleanor's hand falls as she chuckles. "Like a true Fereleden, you always loved the stories about mabaris."

"I remember that." Ana chuckles. "Ser Gilmore and I used to play mabari warriors when we were children."

"That too." Eleanor says, sadness tinging her smile. "I love you, my darling girl. You know that, don't you?"

"I love you too, mum."

Reaching up to move some hair behind Ana's ear, Eleanor frowns. "How I wish you and Fergus didn't grow up so quickly." She sighs. "You'll be running the castle while your father is gone and your brother leaves tonight. Have you said your goodbyes?"

Ana shakes her head. "Not yet. I was actually on my way when Much ran off."

"Well, I won't keep you any longer. We can speak later." Turning away, she kneels before Much. "And you. Try to keep her out of trouble, understand?"

Much gives an affirmative bark, earning a smile and scratch behind his ears.

"Very good." Rising once more, she embraces her daughter, smiling as she breathes in the fragrance from her hair. When she pulls away once more, she looks Ana over before parting ways. Ana stares after her mother for a while before she starts off toward the side passage.

Keeping an eye out for her tutor, she quickly winds her way towards the bedchambers and hears her nephew's voice as she draws near the open doorway.

"Will you bring me back a sward?" Oren says, his eyes widening as he looks up at his father.

Fergus chuckles. "That's sword, Oren." He says, kneeling before his son. "And I'll find you the mightiest one I can find."

"Promise, papa?"

Fergus gently grasps his shoulders. "I promise." Noticing somebody enter from the corner of his eye, he glances over. "Ah! And here's my little sister, coming to see me off!" He grins.

"Sister?" Oren asks, his brows creasing. "But that's auntie Ana!"

"I am both." Ana chuckles, coming to stand before her brother. "Mother and Father have insisted that I come say goodbye since I don't know when I'll see you again."

Fergus is about to speak when his wife, Oriana, quickly speaks up. "Ana! Don't speak like that in front of Oren!"

Fergus frowns. "She didn't mean anything by it, Love."

"Not at all. I just mean that the journey to Ostagar takes a while." Ana quickly recovers. "Depending on weather, it could be months!"

Oriana's solemn expression remains as she seems unconvinced but says nothing.

"Besides," Ana grins, placing a graceful hand on his armored shoulder. "Nothing other there can harm Fergus. He's build like a fortified wall!"

"I don't know about that." Fergus laughs. "It's a shame you aren't coming with me. It's going to be tiring killing all those darkspawn by myself."

"A woman fighting in battle?" Oriana gapes. "In Antiva, the very idea of that would be...unthinkable!"

"Really?" Fergus grins. "I always heard that Antivian women were dangerous."

For the first time since Ana entered the room, Oriana cracks a smile. "Only with kindness and poison, my dear husband."

Fergus' eyes widen before he lets out a round of laughter. He turns to Ana, motioning back towards his wife. "You hear that? And this is from the woman who serves me my tea!"

"Honestly, at this point, I'm surprised she hasn't yet." Ana chuckles, earning a laugh from the both of them.

"Poison papa?" Oren gapes. "Don't do that!"

His mother kneels beside him and smooths down his hair, gently quieting him. "We're only joking Oren." She says, softly.

"Besides," Ana shrugs. "I doubt I would be much help. I'm not very good with a sword. That was always your area of expertise, not mine."

"Yes... Maker, let's hope that you'll never need that skill." He frowns. "Even so, I'm not looking forward to the journey very much since we're short on men." He shakes his head. "I still can't believe that Howe's men are delayed again! You would think they were marching backwards or something!"

"It's a shame Duncan won't be riding out with you. Being a Grey Warden, I imagine he would be of great use against the darkspawn."

"A grey warden?" Oren exclaims, his eyes widening with excitement. "Did he ride here on a Griffin?"

"Shush, Oren." His mother chides. "Griffins only appear in stories now."

Fergus turns to his sister. "I heard about a grey warden being here but I was never told why. Do you know?"

Ana nods, her stomach knotting up as she thinks about Roderick. "He's come here because he's recruiting." She says, her eyes cast downward. "One of the men he has a mind to test is Ser Gilmore."

Fergus, watches her change in demeanor. Unlike their parents, he was fully aware of his sister's relationship with her guard. Once, after a dalliance between the two in the library, Ana had left some of her small clothes behind which Much had found and brought to Oren when they were playing fetch. He frowns. "Ser Gilmore is a good and capable man." He says, aware of his unknowing wife and son next to him. "Duncan would be lucky to have him within his ranks."

With a tight smile, Ana nods in agreement. A sad and tense silence falls upon them before Fergus clears his throat. "Anyways," He begins. "If it's any consolation, I'm sure I'll freeze in the southern rains." He offers her a grin. "I'll be so jealous of you here at the castle, all warm and safe."

Ana cracks a smile. "Not to mention there's better food here."

Oriana sighs. "I'm so glad to hear you'll be so miserable, my love."

He chuckles. "I was only joking...kind of." He sighs as he looks at the three of them. "Well, I should probably head out then. The darkspawn aren't going to decapitate themselves!"

Oriana wrinkles her nose. "Fergus!"

"Good! You haven't left yet!"

The four of them turn to look at the doorway as the Teyrn and Teyrna stride in together. "I was just about to." Fergus says.

Eleanor frowns as she pulls her son into an embrace. "Be well, my son." She says, into his neck. "I will pray to the Maker for your safety, every day that you're gone."

"Thank you, Mother." He whispers. "You know fairly well that no darkspawn can best me!" He says, cheerfully. Once she steps back, she wipes the rogue tear that escapes and runs down her cheek. Bryce then steps forward and hugs his son.

"Stay safe out there, my boy." Bryce says, clasping his son's shoulder. "Howe and I will see you in Ostagar."

"The Maker sustain and preserve us all." Oriana says. "Watch over our sons, husbands and fathers and bring them safely back to us."

"And bring us some ale and wenches while you're at it!" Fergus says with a laugh. He never was one to like overly serious or ominous moments.

"Fergus!" Oriana exclaims. "You would really say this in front of your mother?"

She shoots him a glare and he gives her a sheepish smile. "Err... for the men, I mean. I don't need any wenches since I have you, my love."

"What's a wench?" Oren asks, innocently. "Is that what you pull on to get the bucket out of the well?"

"No, dear boy." Bryce chuckles. "A wench is a woman who pours the ale in a tavern." He lowers his voice. "Or a woman who drinks a lot of ale."

"Bryce!" Eleanor chuckles. "Maker's breath! It's like living with a pair of small boys. Thankfully I have a daughter who acts properly."

Ana and Fergus exchange a knowing look as Fergus suppresses a laugh. He clears his throat. "I'll miss you, Mother dear." He grins. "I'm sure Ana will take good care of you while we're gone." He smirks at his sister. "Isn't that right?"

Feeling everybody's gazes on her, her cheeks redden slightly. "I'll try. Although, out of the two of us, Mother is the warrior."

"That's true." Fergus chuckles. "Perhaps we should be sending her to Ostagar instead of me. She can scold the darkspawn back into the deep roads. For those who resist, she can hack them to pieces."

"I'm glad you find this so funny." Eleanor snaps.

"Now, now." Bryce laughs, touching his wife's shoulders. He glances at Ana. "If you haven't already, say your goodbyes, pup. You'll need to get some rest. Tomorrow will be a big day for you."

She nods and walks over to Fergus and throws her arms around him. "Goodbye brother." She mutters. "Fight well. I'll see you whenever you return."

"Goodbye, my dear little sister." He says, returning the gesture. He turns his head toward her ear and lowers his voice so only she can hear. "With father and I gone, do try to be more discrete with your... liaisons." She gives a slight nod before they pull apart. "Behave while we're gone." He grins.

Wishing the others a good night, she turns on her heel and, hearing her father strike up a conversation with her brother, she starts down the hallway towards her chambers.


	4. One More Night

Once inside her chambers, Much lies by her bed as Nonni helps her change into her nightgown and plaits her hair. "Nonni?" Ana says, as the woman helps her with her robe.

"Yes, m'lady?"

She turns to her. "Can you please summon, Ser Gilmore." She says, thoughtfully. "We have some business to discuss regarding my father's departure tomorrow. You can head to bed once you've done so."

"Right away, m'lady." Nonni gives a curtsey before leaving the room. While her handmaiden leaves to summon her lover, Ana busies herself by lighting candles and getting ready. Shortly after, there's a knock on the door. "Lady Ana?" She hears Roderick's vice from behind the thick wooden door. "You summoned me?"

Fixing herself on the bed, she poses herself. "Come in, Ser Gilmore!" She calls back. The door slowly opens and Roderick peeks his head in and looks around. As he spots her, he grins, shutting the door behind him. Leaning against it, his eyes travel over her naked body, posed seductively on her bed. Smirking, she beckons him over.

"Shall we continue where we left off, Ser Gilmore?"

"Maker..." He breaths. As he walks toward her, he strips away his armor and then his shirts until he stands before her, dressed only in his trousers and boots.

"Starting tomorrow, I will be responsible for the well-being of the castle and all those who are in it." She says, his hands gliding over the smooth curvature of her body. "Seems that we should have our last night of pleasure before things get hectic." His hand cups her breast, kneading it gently in his hands while his thumb finds and teases her hardened nipple. She frowns. "And before you're taken away from me."

His hands stop as his gaze meets her. "Taken from you?" He asks, his brows creasing. "What do you mean?"

"The grey warden, Duncan, is here recruiting." She says, her fingers grazing the top of his trousers. "You're one of the people that he has his eye on and wants to test." Sitting up, she slides over to perch herself on the edge of the bed, and pulls the strings of his trousers before wiggling them of his hips and exposing his half hard cock. His breathing quickens as she takes him in her hand, gently tugging it while circling her thumb on the wet tip. "If this really is our last night together," She says, leaning forward and pressing a kiss at the root and slowly making her way to the tip where she gives a little suck and looks up as he emits a light gasp. "I want to give you something to remember me by."

His heart pounds in his chest as he reaches down and tilts her head up to meet her gaze. Outlining her lips with his thumb, he gently touches her lower lip. "Ana..." He says in a low voice, his voice thick with desire. "It's only a tryout. There's a likelihood of failing.

"I doubt it." She frowns. "You're a talented warrior, Rory. Duncan would be foolish not to recruit you."

He raises a brow. "I thought you didn't want me to go?"

"I don't but, even with my status, I doubt I can make Duncan change his mind."

Pulling away from her touch, he leans down and takes her face in his hand. "Maker willing, I will stay here with you for as long as I am able." He says. His lips meet hers, their breath intermingling as their kiss grows in urgency. Without breaking away, he lays her back, his cock brushing against her bare thighs. Her fingers entangle in his hair and wraps her arms around the base of his spine, urging him to enter her. He breaks the kiss for a moment, reaching up to caress her breast, sucking and licking around it while he rolls her sensitive nipple between his fingers. A small moan escapes as she bites her lip, excitement rippling through her as his stubble tickles her sensitive flesh. She lets out an annoyed groan when he suddenly stops and stands. His eyes travel over her, smiling at her flushed face and swollen lips. "Maker... you are so beautiful." He mutters. "How did I get so lucky?"

He kneels down by the edge of the bed, hooking his arms around her legs and pulling her so that her opening lies before him. Ana props herself up on her elbows, looking down at him expectantly. "I can say the same." She says, breathlessly. She sucks an anticipatory breath as he lower his head before kissing her inner thigh. She hears him chuckle as she emits a groan.

Reaching up, he lazily rubs her slit, pulling away her folds. "Mm... I'm going to miss this in the coming days." He says, looking up at her with a smirk. "I might have to just make up excuses to get you into different rooms and fuck you against different surfaces like the old days."

Ana's heart pounds as she bites her lip, failing to suppress a giggle. "Those were fun days even though Nan almost caught us a few times."

"Yes, had it not been for Much spilling the stew one of those nights, I doubt she would have believed that the reason my trousers were untied when we left the larder was because I accidently I forgot to retie them after using the privy."

"It was a terrible excuse." Ana giggles. "Even for a lie."

"Was it now?" He smirks, watching her squirm as he probes her slit, slipping in one finger, then two." She lets out a moan. "Mm, I'm going to miss those sounds you make."

"You know what I won't miss?" She teases.

"Hm?"

"The tortuous teasing you do with your fingers."

She groans as he suddenly removes his fingers, chuckling. "No fingers then? Fine." Gently pulling her folds apart, he licks and suckles within her slit, grinning as she moans and arches her back off the bed.

Lapping up her climax as it came, he pulled away, licking remnants from his lips. "Mm, like nectar from the gods."

"Shut up." She half mutters, half chuckles as she playfully taps his cheek with her knee before letting it fall on the rumpled sheets she had previously been clawing at. She starts to sigh before her breath catches as she feels his thumb teasing the swollen folds. As he rubs her, he tugs at himself before rising, subtly tugging at his erect cock. He looks down at her flushed face which reaches her nipples.

Her eyes travel down to his cock before she parts her legs. Her eyes conveyed the desire and desperation yet, Roderick could also see the sadness that barely shone through. This really could be it. If he was recruited as a warden, he'd be taken for training and if he stayed here, she'd be so busy running the castle that who knows when they'd have time to meet up and pleasure one another like they had these past few months? Kneeling on the bed between her legs, he worked his cock into her slick opening, delighting in the expression of pure ecstasy as he slid each inch deep within her.

Ana gripped up at him, her eyes wide and almost glowing in the candlelight. Deep within her, he leans forward, meeting her lips as a strangled gasp escapes from her after a quick thrust.

Their lips moved in unison, between gasps as his thrusts started slow and grew both in speed and force. Halfway through, she broke the kiss to let throw her head back, moans and whimpers ripping from her as her lover thrust between her legs. Moans escape Roderick as he climaxes, seed filling Ana until he feels himself empty. He lies with his cock still embedded deep within her swollen folds while he catches his breath, nibbling along her jawline. "One moment, love." He breathes. "I know you're close."

Rocking gently into her, he finally props himself up on his elbows once more and pumps into her, savoring her gasps and moans before he feels her finally climax, her walls convulsing around him. With a few final thrusts after she's finished, he pulls out and flops down on the bed beside her, a sheen of sweat coating his body. After a few moments, Ana sits up and leans over him, her lips turned up into a smile as she cups and nips at his stubbled jaw. He returns her smile and wraps an arm around her, pulling her close to him.

"I love you, Rory." She whispers, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips.

"And I, you." He kisses the tip of her nose. They stay there for a few moments in their lover's post-coital bliss before Roderick pulls away from her and rises from the bed. As he tucks his now limp cock back in his trousers and ties it, Ana watches him. He looks up and sees her frown.

"I need to get back to my post." He explains. "I've already been gone long enough. If I don't get back, I just know I'll hear about it from Commander Cohen." He pulls on his shirts and starts to put his armor back on before looking back at Ana. "Maker..." He sighs. "Had I any choice, I would stay and make love to you at least 2 more times."

"I know." She frowns, sitting up. She stands and walks over to him, his breastplate cold against her bare skin. She touches his stubbled cheek. "Well, goodnight, my love." She sighs. Pulling her to him, his lips meet hers in a passionate kiss before hesitantly pulling away. "Goodnight, my sweet Ana."

Pulling from her embrace, he stalks back toward the door, pausing by it to look back before ducking out the room. Once he's gone, Ana sighs and retrieves her nightgown and pulls it over her head. After smoothing down her hair that loosened from her braid, she walks over to the door of the adjoining room. As soon as it opens, Much rushes in with a happy bark.

"Ready for bed, boy?" She asks, smiling down at him. He barks and she leads him over to the bed and crawls in, waiting as he situated himself on the floor beside her bed. He still, lying his head on his paws before Ana says goodnight and blows out the candle.


	5. Betrayed

Ana stirs from her slumber as she hears a low growl come from nearby. "Much?" She calls into the darkness. She can just barely make out her dog's form as he stands near the door, emitting a low growl. "Much, what's wrong boy?"

He remains at the door. Taking her robe from nearby, she places it around her before grabbing the candle from her bedside table. Using the dying flames of the fireplace, she lights the candle and looks over where Much is. "What's wrong?" She asks coming to stand beside him. "Is it another rat?"

As soon as she says this, she hears a loud crash from outside the door. "What the—"

She starts to open the door when it flings open, hitting Ana and sending her back onto the floor. "What the he—"

A man, fully clad in armor appears before her, sneering as somebody from the hall calls out, "Hurry up and kill the young Cousland bitch!"

Ana's eyes widen as she scrambles back, exclaiming as she touches the still lit fragment of candle that flew from her hand during her fall. The man makes his way toward her, raising his blood covered sword as he prepares to strike her when his eyes widen. A blade appears through his center before disappearing as it's extracted. Ana screams before the man collapses to reveal Ser Gilmore, his bloodied sword hanging at his side. He looks down at the frightened Ana, frowning as he sheathes his sword. "Ana!" He exclaims, rushing to her side. Placing his hand on her shoulder, he feels her shaking and instantly draws her to him. "Are you alright, my love?" He whispers.

It takes a moment but she weakly nods. Her mind is full of questions but she can barely make a sound as her gaze falls on the man nearby, a pool of blood forming around him. Roderick rises and peeks out the door before returning. "Get dressed. We need to get you out of here."

She remains still, but finally finds her voice. "What?" she squeaks.

Kneeling before her, he takes her hands in his and pulls her up onto her feet, holding her arms as she sways. He sidesteps to extinguish the nearby candle with his boot before looking out the doorway once more. "Hurry." He hisses. We don't have much time!"

"M-my handmaiden—"

Roderick shakes his head. "She's probably down in the servant's quarters. We need to get you out of here, NOW." Nudging her towards her wardrobe, he glances nervously at the door. "Dress warm."

"I-I don't understand." She frowns. "What's happening?"

His grim expression did little to comfort her. "The castle is under siege."

Her brows crease as he urges her to hurry once more. "What do you mean?" She asks. "Who would possibly attack us in the middle of the night? Nobody knew about Fergus taking most our forces! How would they know—"

"It's Howe's men." He says quickly. "His men were never delayed but instead were lying in wait for your brother to leave with the forces so they could attack."

"But—"

"Ana!" He snaps. "Now isn't the time! Throw something on and let's go! We need to get you out of here!" He glances around. "You'll need a weapon. Do you have your sword here?"

"Of course not!" She says, sorting through her dresses with shaking hands. She casts a glance over her shoulder. "All weapons are locked in the armory."

A yell sounds in the hallway and Ana grips the black gown to her chest, her eyes widening as Roderick unsheathes his sword. The man barely makes it by the door before he lets out a pained cry before he slumps to the floor with an arrow sticking out his back. Roderick raises his sword, ready to fight before Eleanor appears, bow in hand. "Ser Gilmore!" She exclaims. "My daughter! Where is she?"

"Mum!"

Sheathing his sword, Roderick steps aside. Seeing her child, her face brightens as she runs and pulls her daughter into an embrace. The gown drops to the floor as she holds her mother tightly, tears streaming down her face. "Oh, my darling girl!" Eleanor sighs, stroking Ana's hair. Pulling away, her eyes look her over. "Are you hurt?"

Ana shakes her head and is pulled into another embrace. Once her mother pulls away, Eleanor turns to Roderick. "Ser Gilmore, have you see my husband? Is he alright?"

"I'm not sure, your ladyship." Roderick frowns. "As soon as I sensed what was happening, I raced here to ensure that Lady Ana was alright."

"We're being attacked by Howe's men!" Ana exclaims. "Why is he attacking us? I thought he and father were friends?"

Touching her daughter's cheek, her eyes search her daughter's frightened ones. "I don't know. Whatever the reason, it's not safe here!" Shouldering her bow, she bends down to retrieve the gown at their feet. "We need to get you dressed." Glancing over her shoulder, she calls to Roderick. "Ser Gilmore! Guard the door while I help her."

"Yes, your ladyship." He nods.

Quickly, she helps her daughter into her gown and turns her around to begin lacing it up. "Mum…" Ana says quietly, her lip quivering. "I'm scared."

"I know, darling…" Eleanor sighs. "But you must be brave." Once she finishes, she turns her child to face her, reaching up to wipe the tears spilling down her cheeks. "If only your brother—" She begins to say before suddenly breaking off. Her eyes widen. "Oh no…"

"What?" Ana asks, trailing after her mother as she quickly makes her way toward the door. She rushes down the hall and bursts into Fergus' room. "No!"

Ana and Roderick quickly run after her and stop before the doorway, watching as Eleanor kneels before the slain bodies of Fergus' wife and child. Ana quickly turns away,burying her face into Roderick's chest as he looks on grimly.

"My little Oren!" Her mother wails. "What type of villain slaughters innocents like an unarmed woman and child?!"

Holding Ana close to him, he looks out at the scene. "Looks like Howe doesn't plan on taking hostages." He says grimly. "He plans to kill everyone!"

Much runs into the room and sniffs Oren's lifeless hand. He whines, nudging it.

"That bastard!" Eleanor exclaims, rising to her feet. She wipes her eyes. "I will slit that lying bastard's throat myself!"

Leaving the room, they check the other rooms and find more slaughtered innocents. At one room, they have to push at the door since Iona's corpse lies in front of it as though she was cut down before she could run for help. Further inside, they are met with the gruesome sight of both Dairren and his mother, Lady Landra, lying on the bed with their throats slit.

"No.." Eleanor sobs into her hands. "Lady Landra, Iona and Dairren… all dead. If they hadn't come at my request—"

Grasping her mother's shoulder, Ana wipes some tears away. "It's not your fault, Mum." She sniffs. "This is Howe's doing."

"It is…" She nods. Turning to her daughter, she frowns. "I need to find your father. He never came to bed so he's probably near his study."

"Mum, it's too dangerous!"

The look she gives Ana chills her to the bone. "What do I care of danger? My only grandchild is now a ravaged corpse."

Ana purses her lips as Eleanor turns to Ser Gilmore. "If Howe's men are inside, that must mean they already have control of the castle. From the Larder, there's a service entrance that can be used as an escape route. Take my daughter there. Once I find Bryce, we'll meet you there. Understand?"

Roderick bows his head. "Yes, your Ladyship."

"No!' Ana shakes her head. "I won't leave you!"

Taking her daughter's face in her hands, she kissed her on the forehead. "Do as I say, Ana." She whispers. "Your father and I will be there shortly. "Reaching onto her belt, she removes her dagger and places it in Ana's hand. "Take this, just in case. Be safe, my girl."

Before Ana can argue any more, her mother quickly runs off towards the sound of the fighting in the distance.

Grabbing her arm, Roderick tugs her toward him. "Come on. Fastest and safest route would be to cut through the library and use the hidden passage we used to take to get sweets from the kitchens."

With a final glance in the direction her mother went, she runs after Roderick with Much hot on her heels. Reaching the door of the library, Roderick holds his hand up for her to stop while he peeks inside before urging her forward. Lying near one of the bookshelves, they stumble upon Ana's tutor, Aldous, his eyes wide with fear. Kneeling beside him, Roderick says something before closing the old man's eyes and standing. "He was a good man." He says before motioning for them to continue.

Moving one of the bookcases, he reveals a small, dark passage way with cobwebs lazily strung from lack of use. "Come on." He says, motioning for her to go.

"But there's spiders!" She frowns, casting an apprehensive glance at the entrance. With an annoyed grunt, he retrieves a nearby torch and thrusts it towards her. "Here. Burn them and we can light the way." He glances around anxiously before waving them through. "Hurry up!"

"Come on, Much." She says, her hand shaking as she holds the torch before her. Ducking into the short space, she burns the cobwebs away as she inches forward.

Once she's far enough in, Roderick quickly ducks in behind her before sliding the bookshelf back into place. Walking up to her, he takes the torch and walks ahead, burning various cobwebs as they come near. They walk in silence, the sound of their footsteps being the only sound they can hear besides the occasional roll of thunder from outside until Ana steps on something and hears a squeak.

"Rat!" She cries. She starts to scream but is silenced when Roderick quickly swivels around, pinning her against the damp wall of the passage as he presses a gauntleted hand over her mouth. "Shh!" He hisses, his eyes wide. "We don't want to alert them to where we are. You need to be quiet. Understand?"

She nods and he removes his hand and motions for them continue. Shivering from the dampness seeping through her gown combined with the cold of the passage, she hugs her arms around herself and quietly trails behind him. Coming to the kitchen entrance, he motions for her to wait while handing her the torch. He peeks out from the tapestry concealing the entrance along with the various sacks of grain, barrels and crates.

"Well?" Ana asks when he returns.

"It looks clear." He takes the torch from her and quickly douses it in a small puddle that had somehow accumulated within a dip in the cobblestone. "Just in case…"

They carefully climb through the entrance and over the sacks of grain. In her haste, Ana trips over something and falls forward. "What the—" She starts to say before gazing into the bulging eyes of Nan's corpse. She starts to scream before quickly muffling herself with her hand. She scrambles away just as they hear a voice from nearby and the clanking sound of armor on the ground as they come towards them.

"Lady Ana!"

Quickly looking up, she recognizes the face of Duncan. Sheathing his sword, he reaches down and helps her to her feet. "It's such a relief to see that you're all right." He says, glancing up to nod to Roderick. "Ser Gilmore, I presume?"

"Yes, Ser." Roderick he nods.

"Duncan," Ana interrupts. "My mother is still out there looking for my father!"

Duncan, shakes his head. "Do not worry. Both are in the larder." He says, motioning towards the door that hangs ajar. He frowns. "Your father, however, has suffered a serious wound, your mother is sitting with him now."

Pushing past him, she runs into the room to find her parents on the ground. Her father's face is pale and contorted in pain, clutching his lower abdomen while Eleanor kneels beside him, whispering comforting words.

"Mum! Dad!" She rushes over and kneels beside her mom. Tears well up in her eyes as Bryce looks up at her.

"There you are, pup." He says weakly. "I was wondering when you would get here."

Her worried eyes travel down to his hand which is streaked with fresh blood. "Dad… what happened?"

"Howe stabbed him." Duncan says gravely, entering the room with Much and Roderick in tow. "He meant to kill him but luckily I found him. Howe fled and I brought him here."

Turning back to her father, her lower lip quivers. "We're right here near the servant's entrance." She says desperately. "We can escape. We'll get you bandaged up—"

Bryce shakes his head. "No. I fear that I won't survive standing."

Her voice shakes with emotion as tears prick her eyes. "But… but we have to get you out of here!" She says, grabbing her father's hand, oblivious to the blood now soaking her sleeve. She glances around, helplessly. "Perhaps there's something in here that can help…"

Squeezing his daughter's hand, he shakes his head. "Oh, my darling girl… if only that were so."

"If Howe's men break through the hall where I have the remaining men stationed, they'll come here. We need to act now." Duncan says.

Bryce nods, squeezing Ana's hand. "Pup, it's up to you."

Her eyes widen. "What?"

He grunts, his face contorting once more. "You need to… reach Fergus. He needs to know what's happened here."

Ana shakes her head violently. "No! I'm not going to leave you!"

"Bryce, my darling." Eleanor says. "We're close to the escape route. We can find you healing magic!"

Bryce shakes his head. "Howe has the castle surrounded and I'm not going to make it." He sees his wife's face tear up with a pained look on her face. "Besides, being wounded, I'd only slow you down and draw attention when you got outside."

"He's right." Duncan says.

Turning to look at him, Ana frowns. "You're a famous Grey Warden. Can't you take down Howe?"

He shakes his head. "Even with my skills, I'd be outnumbered. From what I've seen already, they already seem set on killing everybody in the castle, myself included. There's no other option but to flee."

"Then I beg you, Duncan." Bryce says, between waves of pain. "Take my daughter and wife to safety!"

Duncan bows his head. "I will, your Lordship." He agrees. "But, I fear I must ask for something in return."

"Name it!" Bryce exclaims. "Anything you want, it's yours!"

"What is happening here pales in comparison to the evil now loose in the world." Duncan's gaze slips toward Ana. "I came to your castle seeking a recruit. The darkspawn threat demands that I leave with one."

Closing his eyes, Bryce bows his head. "I…I understand."

"Being a Cousland, she's not safe anywhere. As a Warden, I can protect her."

"What?" Ana exclaims, her eyes widening. "I can't be a Warden!" She glances at the equally shocked Ser Gilmore. "I can barely swing a sword!"

"Your fellow Wardens and I can teach you at Ostagar."

"What about Ser Gilmore?" She gapes.

Duncan looks at him. "He can come too, if he so chooses. Either way, we need to go."

"As long as Howe gets justice served to him, I agree." Bryce nods.

Duncan nods, motioning to Ser Gilmore. "We should leave quickly then."

"Bryce…" Eleanor says. "Are you…sure?"

Her husband nods. "Our daughter will not die of Howe's treachery." He says, his jaw clenched against the pain. "She will live and make her mark on the world."

Eleanor nods. "Then it's settled." She turns to look at her daughter, reaching up to touch her cheek. "This is it then, Darling. Go with Duncan. You'll have a better chance to escape without me."

"Eleanor..." Bryce begins to argue before he coughs, blood dribbling down his chin.

"Hush, my love." She frowns. "I'll kill every bastard that comes through that door to buy them time but I refuse to abandon you. Not now, not ever."

"But Mum…" Ana sniffs.

"No, Ana. We need you to live. While it's not what we had planned for you, become a Grey Warden. Do what's right!"

Bryce lets out a pained cry. "I'm…so sorry it's come to this, my love…" He says, the fatigue of his wound starting to take its toll as he begins to sink down.

Tears run down Eleanor's cheeks as she holds his head close to her chest. "We had a good life and we did all that we could." She says comfortingly, stroking his hair. She looks up through her tears at Ana. "It's up to our children now."

"Then…go, pup." Bryce sputters, bloods spilling down his chin and staining his teeth. "Know that we love you both very much. Do us proud."

"I'll try." Ana whispers, trying and failing to hold back her tears. "I love you, Mum and Dad."

"And we love you, darling." Eleanor says, giving her a sad smile as she pushes a shield and sword belt towards her. "Take this. You'll need it. It's our family shield and sword. Keep it safe. I don't want it landing in that traitor Howe's hands."

There's a loud crash and Ana's eyes widen. "What was that?"

Walking over, Duncan grabs her arm and pulls her up. "They've broken through. We need to go."

Stooping down to clumsily grab the sword and shield, Ana, Roderick and Much quickly follow Duncan toward the back passage. Before ducking through, Ana casts a last glance back at her parents.

"Goodbye, Darling!" Her mother calls. "Warn your brother!"

Ana nods just as she's pulled through and follows the others down the passage.


	6. Into The Night

Much like the passage that Ana and Roderick took to reach the kitchens, the escape passage is drafty and wet. As they draw nearer to the end, a clap of thunder sounds making her jump and Much give a short yelp of fright before Roderick shushes them. "We're getting close." Duncan whispers from the head of the group. "I can hear the wind blowing through the cracks of a door."

They finally reach the door and wait anxiously as Duncan tries to work the door open enough to peek through. Once wide enough, he peers out. "Ser Gilmore." He whispers. "Come here."

Walking towards the Warden, Roderick looks out. "The stables are not far from here. With luck, there should still be a couple horses."

As one of what looks to be Howe's men rides past, Duncan shuts the door slightly and looks back at them, hearing the sound of Ana's teeth chattering as she wraps her arms around herself. Conjuring in his mind what she's wearing, Duncan frowns. "With it downpouring out there, it wouldn't be wise nor sensible for you to travel like that." He says, referring to her lack of cloak or protective armor. Thinking quickly, he glances out once more. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

Before either of them can say anything, Duncan ducks out of the passage. "What is he doing?" Ana hisses. She and Roderick gather close to the door and look out but see nothing but darkness and the dark shape of a bush nearby.

After leaving the safety of the passage, Duncan crouches along the small path, his heavy boots sinking down within the mud. Catching sight of the soldier that passed before, he ducks behind a bush. From what he can make out, the man is alone and probably on a patrol in case anybody escapes. Lightning flashes as thunder booms overhead and he sinks lower, worried the light will gleam off his armor and give him away. Once it's dark once more., he gives a low whistle. The man, hearing him, slows his horse as he looks around him, his hand grabbing his pommel. "Who's there?" The man calls into the darkness. "Show yourself."

His eyes trained on the man, he reaches down and feels around the watery ground before he finds a stone. He chucks it and it flies past him and lands on the other side of him with a small splash. The man's head swivels as his head darts to the other side now. "Show yourself!"

With the man's attention diverted, Duncan takes his chance and runs up, grabbing the man and throwing him from his saddle before pressing him into the muddy ground. The man struggles against him as he begins to call for help before Duncan quickly slits his throat. A gurgling noise sounds as the man reaches for his neck. Lightning flashes once more as the man looks up to see the warden standing over him before his body goes limp. Placing his dagger back in his belt, Duncan sighs while he unbuckles the man's cloak and rolls him over to pull it off. Not the best but it'll have to do for now.

Standing, he walks over to the whinnying horse and takes the reins. "Easy there…" He says, petting its mane as he tries to comfort it. Looking around, he leads the horse back toward the passage and knocks. The door opens slightly before he motions to Roderick. "Hold this." He says, holding out the reins. As he hands them off to the knight, he leans toward him and lowers his voice. "With only one horse, we'll need to split up. Since they will mostly be wanting Lady Ana, I will start heading southeast toward the Brecillian Forest. You'll need to meet us in Ostagar but I recommend you head southwest, along the western side of Lake Calenhad so that we split their forces. Do you understand?"

Ser Gilmore casts a glance back toward Lady Ana before nodding. "I understand." He says.

"Also, at the rate we will be riding, her Mabari might not be able to keep up." Duncan says, grimly. "I know she will not want to part with it but he might slow us down. I will need you to bring him with you, if possible."

Roderick nods and Duncan walks over towards Ana, holding the cloak out to her.

"What is that?" She asks, wrinkling her nose.

"It's a cloak. Put it on, quickly." He says, thrusting it towards her.

"It's wet!"

"It is but it's better than no protection at all." He says firmly. "Now hurry."

Hesitantly, she takes it from him and throws it around, cringing as the wet fabric touches her bare upper back. She fumbles with the clasp before Duncan steps forward to help her. Once he steps back, he motions towards the horse. "Let's go. The sooner we leave, the more distance we can put between us and Howe's men." He says. "Also, the sooner we can get to Ostagar and warn the King."

Ana looks past him at the horse, frowning. "But there's only one horse and there's 3 of us."

Roderick and Duncan exchange a glance as Duncan takes the reins and swings up into the saddle. Roderick steps toward Ana and takes her hands. "Go with Duncan." He frowns. "I'll follow once I get a horse."

Her eyes widen as she shakes her head. "No! I already had to leave my parents…please don't make me leave you too!"

Breaking the usual façade, he touches her cheek. "You won't be. I'll be right behind you. Once I know you're on your way, I'll head to the stables and find a mount. If we don't see each other on the road, I'll see you at Ostagar. I promise."

Tears form in her eyes and spill down her cheeks, intermingling with the rain. Leaning forward, he pulls her to him and captures her lips with his in a bittersweet kiss. As he pulls away, he frowns. "Go on."

She sniffs but eventually nods. "I'll see you at Ostagar." She says, her lip trembling. "Promise me."

"I promise, my love. Now go."

Giving him one last hug, she lifts takes Duncan's hand as he extends it and Roderick gives her a boost. She sits on the saddle before Duncan, hugging the Cousland shield and sword tightly against her as she looks back at her lover. "I love you, Rory!"

"And I, you, my sweet Ana."

Reaching around Ana to grab a hold of the reins with his other hand, Duncan digs his heels into the horse's flank and they ride off into the dark and stormy night.


	7. Sanctuary

They ride quickly in the dark, save the occasional flashes of light. After what seems like hours of the biting cold wind and icy rain slapping their faces, the rain begins to taper off. Ana shivers in the saddle in front of Duncan but remains quiet, partially from the shock that still resides in her from the current events. Slowing their horse to a stop, Duncan looks back before sighing. "We've put quite an amount of distance between us and them for now." He says quietly. "It won't be for long though. Once they realize that you're missing, Howe will send men to look for you."

When she says nothing, he frowns. "Lady Ana? Are you alright?"

Unable to cry anymore, she gives a weak nod. At this point, all she wants is a warm meal and to get out of the cold and into a nice warm bed. She just wants to wake up and have everything to just be one big nightmare.

While he can't see her face, Duncan knows she's tired and grief-stricken. Poor Girl. Looking around them once more, he tries to determine what they should do. As wise as it would be to get more distance between them and Howe's men, her cloak is soaked and had to remind himself that, unlike him, she's not where layers of armor over her clothes. She's only wearing a dress which is probably soaked through by now. If they continued on, she might catch a fever.

As he takes in his surroundings, at least what he remembered seeing when they still had the occasional lightning flash, he assumes that they had been riding east southeast. We must be somewhere between Stoneleigh and Barnston, Duncan thinks to himself, recalling the town they rode past recently. Within about a half hour, we should be in Barnston. With luck, we should be able to find sanctuary in the Chantry there.

"We'll be stopping for the night soon." He announces, setting off at a canter. As Duncan predicted, they came upon the town of Barnston within a half hour. The only thing that told them they were nearing the town were the torches held by two men standing at the entrance of a great palisade gate. Once they draw nearer to the men, the light from the torches illuminates the surrounding area and reveals them. The men take notice of their presence and say something to one another before one holds up his hand to them. "Halt!" He says, his gaze falling on the shield and sword which peeks out from Ana's cloak. "State your business."

Slowing to a stop, Duncan leans to the side of her to see the men. "Let us in. We need to speak with the Chantry Mother." He states. "It's urgent."

Hearing the familiar voice, the man steps forward, raising his torch as his eyes narrow. "Duncan? Is that you?"

Ana feels Duncan's arms tense against her arms as he lets out a sigh. "It is." He snaps. "Like I said, this is urgent."

As it finally dons on him that he's speaking to the Warden-Commander himself, the man's lips purse as he gives Duncan a brisk nod. "Right. My apologies, Warden-Commander." He scrambles back toward the other man and calls for the gates to be opened. As they wait, Ana turns in her seat. "But what about Ser Gilmore?" She whispers. "He said he'd be right behind us. He won't know we're here!"

"Don't worry about him." Duncan says softly. "He's a capable young man. If he doesn't see us along the way, he'll find us at Ostagar. For now, let us focus on ensuring your safety, my lady."

The gates open just enough for them and Duncan urges their horse forward. They ride past the two men and into the town, following the dirt roads lined with torches toward the edge of town where the large stone structure of the Chantry looms. As they ride past it, Ana's brows furrow.

"Where are we going?" Ana asks. "I thought we were going to talk to the Chantry mother?"

"We are."

"But you just passed the chantry."

There's a long silence and Ana's patience begins to wear thin. "You're going the wrong way." She complains.

"We need to stable the horse first." Duncan says patiently. "We've been riding long and hard since we left Highever. He needs to rest just like we do."

Ana pouts like a child but remains quiet until they reach the stables. Duncan is the first to dismount and holds a hand up to help her. She begins to shift so she can slide out of the saddle when she notices something. Looking around, she frowns. "Where's Much?" She asks, panic gripping at her heart. Her eyes widen as she looks down at Duncan. "Where is he?"

"Come on." He says passively, holding out his hand. "We need to get to the chantry. It's late and we need to rest up for the long journey tomorrow."

"Answer me!" She demands but it comes off more like a whine than an actual command. "Where is he?"

Normally he would assert his authority over her and remind her that she is in no position to order him around but, looking up at her, he could tell that she's just scared and trying to regain some control in her life, now that everything has just been taken away. His expression softens. "Before we left, I asked Ser Gilmore to keep your mabari with him." He says, gently. "With the speed we were going to get away from Howe's men, I knew he would not be able to keep up. You should see him again at Ostagar." If he and Ser Gilmore make it safely to Ostagar, that is. He thinks grimly. He holds out his hand once more.

Ana looks away as she feels the tears beginning to form. Shifting the shield and sword to one arm, she takes his hand and slips down from the saddle, the shield falling from her grasp. She gives a frustrated groan and Duncan stoops down to retrieve it. She mutters a thanks as he hands it back. Hugging it close to her under her drenched cloak, she waits as Duncan speaks with the sleepy stable hand and pays him before leading her away.

Reaching the large stone steps leading up to the doors of the Chantry, Ana stumbles here and there as she trips on the long fabric of her dress. After a while, Duncan takes pity on her and takes the equipment from her so she can lift her dress enough to climb. They reach the top and, after handing it back to Ana, he pounds on the large double doors, praying that one of the lay sisters or the Chantry Mother herself is awake. As they wait, Duncan begins to grow restless and shifts from one foot to the other, occasionally looking around for any signs of danger.

Much to his relief, one of the large door slowly opens to reveal a plump woman in lay sister robes. She turns to look at the odd duo, an older Rivaini man clad in plate metal and a disheveled noble-looking young woman, clutching something beneath her wet and dirty cloak. She looks up at the man. "Hello." She says, her voice laced with what sounds like an Antivian accent. "How may I help you?"

"My name is Duncan. I'm the Warden-Commander of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden." Duncan says, motioning to Ana. "This is my new recruit. We need to speak with the Chantry mother at once."

The woman looks over Duncan for a moment, her eyes falling on the embossed crest of the Grey Wardens. Deciding he's probably telling the truth, she nods. "Of course. Come inside." She steps aside to let them through. Duncan motions for Ana to go first, which she obeys. Regardless of the giant stone steps, the Chantry itself is quite small. The antechamber is all stone and lined on either side with a marble Andraste statue holding a lit torch. The main chamber is a little larger and has a raised platform at the very back and rows of pews arranged in a semi-circle around it. Ana's eyes look around as they follow the lay sister into the main chamber and she notices the two doors on either side of the room. She's so preoccupied with looking around that she almost runs into the sister as she stops ahead of them. She turns around. "You may wait here." She says, offering Ana a small smile. "I'll fetch the Revered Mother."

As she leaves them, they stand there in silence, taking in the dim interior. Like the hall which they just came in, more torch bearing statues line the walls, providing the only little light until morning. The lay sister returns shortly after with an older woman wearing the ceremonial headdress of the chantry. She greets them with a warm smile. "Hello. My name is Mother Corinna." She says, her eyes lingering on Ana before switching to Duncan. "How can I help you?"

"Thank you for speaking with us, Revered Mother." Duncan says. "I apologize for disturbing you at such a late hour. Had it not been of dire circumstances, we would have waited until morning."

Mother Corinna's smile falls. She glances once more at Ana's disheveled appearance. "Perhaps we should speak privately?" Duncan nods and the Chantry mother turns to look at the lay sister standing off to the side. "Sister Gabrielle?"

The lay sister perks up at the sound of her name. "Yes, Revered Mother?"

"Please take…" She pauses and gives Ana an inquisitive look. Before she can answer, Duncan quickly replies.

"Ana."

Mother Corinna nods to him before returning her gaze to the sister. "Please take Ana to the eastern guest chamber. I'm sure she would like to get out of her wet clothes and rest." Sister Gabrielle nods and leads Ana away towards the east door while Duncan follows Mother Corinna into the opposite one. Once safely behind the thick wooden door, she turns to face him. "Now we should be able to speak plainly." She says. "You spoke of dire circumstances? I was told by Gabrielle that you're Grey Wardens."

"Only I am." Duncan nods. "We have just fled from Castle Cousland in Highever."

Mother Corinna's brows crease. "Fled?" She asks, shooting a weary glance at the door. "Is she a criminal? Aside from her cloak, she's dressed very well."

He shakes his head. "I imagine you've heard of Bryce Cousland?"

"Of course," She nods. "He and his family have ruled over the north for generations. He and the Arl of Amaranthine fought against the Orlesians. Was she a lady who was visiting? What happened?"

Duncan's gaze darkens. "Her name is Lady Analise Cousland." He says carefully. "She's the youngest daughter of the late Teyrn and Teyrna."

She frowns. "Late?"

Duncan nods gravely. "The castle was attacked in the middle of the night by Arl Howe and his men. Men, women and children were slaughtered in their beds. Luckily, with the help of her guard, Ana was able to find me and we escaped."

Mother Corinna nodded slowly as she processed all this. "They wanted to kill off all the Couslands." She breathes. She looks up at him, wide eyed. "Is she the only Cousland left then?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, he shrugs. "We're not sure. Her brother, Fergus, led the Teyrn's men to Ostagar. We will find out when we return and inform the King."

She shakes her head. "Poor girl. Lost her family and home all in one night!"

"It's a tragedy," He agrees. "Thank you again for allowing us to rest a short while here. We'll be leaving shortly after first light. The more distance I can put between Ana and Howe's men, the better."

"Of course." She nods. "I will have Sister Gabrielle pack some food for your journey. Anything I can do to help."

Duncan offers her a rare smile. "Thank you revered mother. Just allowing us to rest here is help enough."

* * *

Arl Rendon Howe, with his lieutenant in tow, carefully stepped over the bodies of servants, guards and guests alike as they made their way towards the great hall. He watched with his hawk-like stare at the mangled bodies, expecting to see the gleaming embossed breast plate of the Warden-Commander among them. There's no way he could have made it out. He thought to himself. I made sure to send my most capable soldiers to his room to deal with him. He might be known for being a great warrior, but he was outnumbered twenty to one! Coming to a stop before the raised platform with the polished bronze chairs, he scowls. The Couslands were always ones to strive higher than they deserved. He thought spitefully. Here Bryce sat, hearing the people's grievances as though he were the king himself!

Hearing the large doors open from the other side of the chamber, he waits, not moving from his position. "Well?" He asks as one of his soldiers comes into view. "Is it done? Is everyone dead? Are the Couslands—"

The man salutes him. "The Teyrn is dead, Ser." The man nods. "His wife, the Teyrna was with him in the larder."

"Is she still alive?"

"No Ser." The man says, shaking his head. "She fought us but she was eventually brought down by an arrow to the heart by one of our men."

Howe's lips curl into a spiteful grin. "Good. Be sure to put their heads on spikes out at the front of the castle for all to see. I want them to know that the Couslands are no more." Keeping his eyes on the thrones before him, he turns his head. "What about his spoiled bitch of a daughter? What of their grandson, Oren and his Antivan whore of a mother?"

"Fergus's wife and son were slain, Ser." The man says, choosing his words carefully. "We have yet to find the body of Lady Analise."

Howe's gaze darts towards the men, his gaze piercing through him. "What about the Grey Warden? Did you find him at least?"

The soldier twists his hand on his pommel, nervously. "Not yet, My Lord. We've checked everywhere—"

"Then check again!" Howe snaps. "There's no way they could have escaped!"

With a clumsy salute, the soldier rushes off once more as a seething Howe turns to his lieutenant. "Just in case, I want men to patrol the grounds and the surrounding areas. If either of them had somehow escaped, I want them brought back here alive."

"Alive, My Lord?"

"Alive!" Howe spits. "Then when they get dragged back here, I'll have them drawn and quartered right in the center of town before placing their heads right beside the others." He sneers. "I've already sent part of our forces to eliminate Fergus Cousland. Once every single Cousland is dead, I will take my rightful place as Teyrn of Highever."


	8. When NOT to flirt

Ana follows sister Gabrielle through the door and up the stairs to a small corridor. "You look like you've had quite the journey." Gabrielle says, leading her towards one of the doors. "While you get settled in, I'll fetch you some water to wash and a dry sleeping gown." She smiles. "Can't have you sleep in your soaked gown, now can we?"

Ana remains stone faced as she shakes her head. Gabrielle's smile falls as she stops near the door and pushes it open. Using her candle to lead the way, she enters the room and lights the candle beside the small bedside table before turning to face Ana. "There. Make yourself comfortable. I shall be right back."

As Gabrielle heads towards the door, she stops as she hears her name being called from inside the room. "Yes?" She asks, turning to face the young woman. Looking out of place with the simple furnishings, Ana stands awkwardly beside the bed, still hugging her family's equipment to her chest.

"When you return, could you help me with my dress? It laces in the back."

Gabrielle's smile returns as she nods. "Of course." Turning on her heel she leaves the room.

Finally alone, Ana feels the tears forming as she looks around the tiny room. There's not much furniture save a small bed, fireplace, two small tables and an alter containing a small statuette of Andraste, engulfed in flames. Staring at the statuette, Ana feels her legs buckle beneath her before she sinks to her knees before it. The weight of her situation begins to weigh heavily on her as she hugs the shield and sword tightly to her chest, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Andraste preserve me." She whispers. "I am not strong enough for this."

She kneels before the statuette for quite a while, her head bent as she weeps, until she hears a light rap on the door. Brushing away her tears, she stands and composes herself. "Come in." She calls.

The door opens and Gabrielle scampers in carrying a bucket of water with a yellowed nightgown draped over her shoulder. She mutters something Ana is unable to make out while she pours the water in the basin sitting atop one of the small tables in the corner of the room. "There!" She smiles, setting the empty bucket on the floor. She turns to face Ana and takes out a rag from the pocket of her robes, holding it out to her. "Here. You may wash your face and hands while I unlace your dress."

With a brisk nod, Ana takes the rag and walks over to the basin. She washes as Gabrielle unlaces the back of her dress with surprising quickness. Gabrielle helps her out of her wet dress and nightgown before helping her into the clean one. The material is much cheaper than she was used to and she noticed a few yellowed stains which she hoped wasn't urine. She grimaces. Following her disgusted gaze, Gabrielle's face reddens. "It's clean, I swear it!" She says. "It was washed just today. Those stains are from tea."

Ana remains quiet as she wraps her arms around her to warm herself in the small drafty room. She shivers and Gabrielle's brows rise. "Oh!" She quickly scurries to the fireplace and begins busying herself while another knock sounds. Ana sits on the lumpy bed, moving around to find a comfortable position, wrinkling her nose at the slight mold smell coming from the greying blanket. "Come in." She calls, attempting to cover herself as she sees Duncan enter. The nightgown is fairly thin and does little to conceal how cold she is. Her face flushes but she doesn't look away as his gaze falls on her.

"Good." He says, his eyes never straying from hers. "I'm glad to see you were able to find something dry to sleep in." As Gabrielle stands, she mutters something to Ana. She eyes Duncan curiously before excusing herself and leaving them. Once the door shuts behind her, Duncan motions towards the fireplace. "While we sleep, we'll leave our wet clothes near the fire to dry. With luck, they will be almost fully dry by the time we are ready to leave."

Ana nods. "What room will you be staying in?" She asks. "Hopefully one nearby if I need you?"

He shakes his head. "I'll be sleeping in here with you." Noticing his charge's reproachful expression, he offers her a smile. "Do not fret, child. I mean you no harm. Given the circumstances, I am here for protection. I pose you no danger."

"But there's only one bed." She says carefully, her eyes narrowing.

"I will be sleeping on the floor."

She reluctantly accepts this with a nod, still feeling self-conscious due to her near nakedness. "Very well. It seems I have no choice."

* * *

It takes Ana awhile to sleep. She tosses and turns on the lumpy mattress as images of her slain family, servants and people she's known all her life plague her mind. How she wished it was just some nightmare. She whimpers in her sleep just as she's shaken awake. Groggy from sleep, she looks up at the blurred figure before her and her heart begins to pound.

"Ana." Duncan's voice hisses from the somewhere nearby. The fire seemed to have died out, leaving the only light coming from the long, thin windows at the top of the wall. By the looks of the amount of light coming through, it has to be just barely past dawn. "I need you to get dressed, quickly."

Her eyes widen as she sits up, holding the scratchy wool blanket to her chest to cover herself even though it's still too dark to see anything. "What? What's happening?"

Duncan shushes her as she hears his boots clank against the stone floor towards the fireplace. In moments, he returns towards her and feels him lay some things – presumably her dress, nightgown and cloak— on the bed over her legs. "Please hurry." He says. "We need to leave immediately."

Gripping the woolen blanket, her hands shake. "But my dress!" She whispers. "I can't lace it on my own. I need Sister Gabrielle!"

She hears him sigh. "We don't have time for that, my lady." He says, his tone gentle yet urgent. "I will lace your dress but we need to hurry."

Shifting so her bare calves hang over the side of the bed, she covers herself. "I need to change my nightgown…"

"I will turn away and guard the door." He says, walking towards the door. "Just tell me when you need my assistance with your laces."

"But—"

"I'm sorry, Lady Ana, but I cannot just leave the room." He says firmly, aware of her objections. "I will explain what's happening once we leave Barnston. Sister Gabrielle is awaiting us out back with our mount."

Her eyes adjust enough to see that he is indeed turned away and pulls away the blanket. The chill in the room grips at her and she shivers. Her feet touch the cold stone as she shoots a glance back at Duncan's armored back before stripping off the stained nightgown and pulling on her own, the still slightly damp fabric making her give a small yelp in surprise.

"Is everything alright?" Duncan whispers, remaining where he is.

"Yes." She says indignantly, embarrassed at the noise she involuntarily made. "One moment." As quickly as she's able, she pulls on her dress. Like her nightgown, it's still a little damp which does nothing to help the chill that has already enveloped her from the cold room and her damp nightgown. She pulls on the soft leather shoes she managed to put on before leaving her room with her mother and Ser Gilmore, grimacing at how wet and muddy they still were from the night before. Her cheeks redden as she glances at Duncan. "I need your help." She says, trying to sound authoritative regardless of her vulnerable state and failing.

Turning, Duncan nods and comes to stand behind her. Her breath catches as she feels his hands, rough and warm graze her back, the heat of his hands seeping through the thin material of her nightgown. It was strange to say the least to have a man, whom she only just met the night before, behind her and interacting in such an intimate nature. He was only lacing her dress but, in her entire life, there was never a man present when she was dressing for the day. Even her father and brother made sure to wait until she was properly dressed before entering her quarters. The thought of her family filled her with grief once more and she felt lightheaded and short of breath in attempt to keep the thoughts at bay.

"Lady Ana?" Duncan's voice softly asks from behind her.

Steeling herself, she takes a deep breath. "Is it done?"

She feels a tug behind her before he walks around. "It is." He nods, motioning to the chair off to the side, her cloak draped over it from when it faced the fire to dry. "Put on your cloak, quickly."

Doing as she's told. She throws it around her and fumbles with the clasp before looking up to see Duncan peek out the door. She frowns. "Is there somebody out there?" She asks, fear constricting her throat.

He shakes his head and turn to her, looking her over before nodding. "Good. Let's go."

She starts to leave before her eyes widen. "Wait!" She looks around, her heart quickening as she sees no sign of her family's sword and shield.

"Don't worry." He says opening the door and peering out. "Your sword and shield are safely packed away on our horse. We'll need to ride quickly and I'll need you to hold on which will be too difficult if you are holding them as well." He peers out once more before motioning to her. "Come on."

She exits the room and begins down the hall in the direction that they came before she feels him grab her arm. "There's a small passage that leads towards the back. It's much quicker."

Following Duncan, they quickly make their way through the small passage through one of the rooms and come out near the small garden out back. Duncan quickly scans the area before guiding her with a hand on her shoulder. There's a small chill in the air as the sun has barely begun to crest over the horizon, casting everything in a dim, blue light. Taking a small trail that leads down to a small creek, they see Sister Gabrielle standing with their horse, saddlebags and a couple bedrolls strapped to the saddle. Duncan gives a low whistle and she turns to greet them. "There you are, child!" She breathes seeing Ana.

Anxious to get going, Duncan swings up into the saddle as Sister Gabrielle says her final goodbyes to a terrified looking Ana. Once she scurries back up the path toward the chantry, Duncan offers his hand which Ana hesitantly accepts. "Hold on tight." He says as he pulls her into the saddle behind him. "I would not want you to topple off while we are riding."

Once she grabs hold of him, he digs his heels into the horse's flank and they set off. Following the creek, they intersect with the North Road and continue south west.

"We're not taking the North Road?" Ana asks, nervously looking back towards the direction they came.

"No. It's likely that Howe's men will be patrolling it." Duncan calls over his shoulder. Near mid-day, the temperature had improved by the time they stopped alongside a ford. Dismounting, Duncan holds a hand out to his young companion. She takes it and he helps her down before taking the reins and leading their horse over towards the water, Ana trailing along by his side.

"We're away from Barnston now." She says. "Are you going to tell me why we're in such a hurry?"

Duncan sighs. "While you were sleeping, I went out to the market to buy some supplies needed for the journey back to Ostagar." He begins. He removes the saddlebags and allows the horse to drink while he motions for her to sit along the bank. He sits and watches her as she puts her cloak on the ground before sitting.

"What market was open that early?" Ana asks, wrinkling her nose as she examines the mud that had caked onto her shoes.

"There were a few stalls." He gives a dismissive wave. He reaches into one of the sacks from the chantry and pulls out a couple hardened biscuits. "Either way, I overheard some people speaking. Not many people were around when we arrived at such a late hour but those who were, took notice."

Taking one of the biscuits held out to her, she sneers at it. "So? I'm sure places like Barnston get many late-night visitors." She sniffs the biscuit before grimacing and placing it in her lap. "I don't see the big deal."

"Forgive me for saying so, My Lady" Duncan says, offering her a half smile. "But I'm sure none of their usual visitors look like you."

Looking down at the pathetic roll in her lap, she feels her cheeks redden. "What do you mean?" She asks. Her heart beats excitedly as she tries to conceal the smile that is beginning to form. Noticing her reaction, he chuckles to himself.

"I think you know what I mean." He smiles as her cheeks redden even more. Maker's breath. Get ahold of yourself, Duncan! She's a beautiful young woman but she just lost her family and home. This is neither the time nor place to flirt! He clears his throat. "I just mean, your dress is very well made and expensive. Only a woman of noble birth could afford such things. We have no idea where Howe's men are currently and seeing a noblewoman wandering at night might set tongues wagging. In the time we were there, somebody could have reported what they seen." He notes the untouched biscuit in her lap and frowns. "You should eat, Ana." He says, gently. "We have a very long journey ahead and you'll need your strength."

She shakes her head. "I'm not hungry." She says quietly.

"I know you're in mourning for your family," Duncan says softly. "but you also need to take care of yourself. You need to eat."

Looking down at the biscuit, her stomach knots up. She looks up at him, her electric blue eyes meeting his dark, almost black ones. "I still don't understand why this is happening." She says, her voice tinged with emotion. "Arl Howe was my father's closest and dearest friend! Why would he do this?"

His eyes searched hers for a long moment, as though the answer was written within her bright blue irises. Finally, he shrugs. "I wish I knew, My Lady." He frowns. "Only the Maker can truly know and understand the wickedness in a man's heart."

Once Duncan finishes his food, he returns the saddlebags to the saddle while Ana quietly brushes herself off and puts her cloak back on.

After three days of avoiding roads and making no more than two stops a day, they make camp within Ashbark Forest near the southern stretch of the Hafer River. Ana sits off to the side, watching Duncan as he coaxes the fire with a stick. She hears him mutter an occasional curse before she speaks. "Duncan?"

He doesn't look up. "Hm?"

"The Grey Wardens are renown for being talented warriors, correct?"

He nods. "They are."

"As honored as I am that you want to recruit me, I must respectfully decline." She says. "I have very little skill in wielding any weapon, let alone a sword."

His eyes flick up to meet hers, his gaze dark. "We've been over this, Ana. We can teach you how to fight. We have a training area back at Ostagar."

"Yes but—" She begins to argue but stops as she sees his glare.

"I promised your father that you will become a Warden so that I can protect you." Sighing, his expression softens. "As close as you are to the crown, you won't be safe. As a Warden, I can train and protect you from any people who wish to use you. Until you join, my protection is limited."

She pouts, crossing her arms over her chest like a defiant child. "That's not fair." She whines. "I never even got a say in the matter!"

Duncan opens his mouth to argue with her but closes it, figuring there's no use. After all, she did have a point. As her father lay dying in front of her, she was promised to an order which she voiced she didn't want to be a part of.

Irritated by his silence, she speaks up once more after a few minutes.

"Okay, let's say I go through with becoming a Warden," she says, indignantly. "What does it entail? Is there a ceremony or something?" In her mind, she saw something similar to a knighting ceremony.

"Somewhat." He replies, choosing his words carefully. "You must go through a joining."

"A joining?" She says with a derisive snort. "How original. Let me guess, we must swear an oath upon the chant of light to uphold all the values of the Wardens and destroy the blight. Am I right?"

He stops what he's doing but doesn't look up. Instead, he stares at the small wisps of flames beginning to lick at the sticks and twigs. "There is a ceremony and once you are finished, your old life is over."

Her smirk falls. "Over? Like, I can't return to my former station?"

The fire had already begun to double in size as he rises. "I won't lie to you, Ana." He says, turning so his gaze meets hers. His solemn, distanced expression makes her blood run cold. "It's unlikely."

Pulling her knees in toward her chest, she buries her face in her arms as she feels the tears well up in her eyes. Duncan watched her, guilt gripping at his heart. He wanted to tell her what the joining actually entails and how there's a risk of not surviving it, but there was a reason they kept it all a secret. Poor girl. He thought, watching her sympathetically. She has already been through so much.

He tried to think of something to lift her spirits and he recalled a question that he had had burning at the back of his mind since Highever. He clears his throat. "May I ask you a question, my lady?"

She lifts her head, her eyes red and puffy from crying. With a sniff, she wipes her eyes and raises her chin. "I guess."

He grins. Even as miserable as she is, she still knows how to carry herself as a noblewoman. "I'm curious about Ser Gilmore."

She raises a brow. "What about him?"

Don't just ask if they're sleeping together. Lead into it. Duncan clears his throat as he cuts a small incision in the pelt of the rabbit he caught earlier. "You seem to know him pretty well."

"I do." She says, choosing her words carefully. "We grew up together. He joined our household as a boy and, after being knighted by my father, he was assigned as my personal guard."

So, they grew up together. Makes sense for them to grow close since they spent much of their lives together. Once old enough, I bet being her personal guard was one way to be alone with her and experiment as youths tend to do. Duncan nods. "I see. How fortunate. He seems like a very capable lad."

Ana's eyes narrow. "He is. He's a very experienced soldier. He's ridden out with my father a couple times."

"I imagine that being your personal guard, you two are quite close." As he says this, he watches her expression as she bows her head. She traces the silver embroidery on her sleeves, her mouth turned downward.

"We are." She says thoughtfully. Suddenly she looks up, her eyes almost glowing in the dimmed light that barely penetrates the thick canopy overhead. For a moment, he's caught off guard by the intensity of her stare. It takes a moment for the surprise to fade, her gaze drawing him in. She has the bright blue Cousland eyes like Bryce had. Maker… Aside from her beauty itself, it's no wonder she's admired. One would think she was a mage with the way her eyes almost glow in the darkness. "I won't insult your intelligence, Ser." She says, passively. "I will not beat around the bush. I know what you're trying to ask and, since it no longer matters, I will tell you. I love Roderick with all my heart and I pray to the Maker that we will be reunited at Ostagar."

Duncan smiles. "Forgive me for all the questions, my lady. I did not want to offend you by asking directly."

She frowns, her electric blue eyes filled with sadness. "Had circumstances been different, I would have denied it. Not because I'm ashamed but because, as a noblewoman, I'm supposed to be married for alliances to lords of equal or higher rank, not knights from small towns like Rory." She shrugs.

While he just wanted to know if the lad he met with her was her lover, his curiosity was now whetted. Until he heard their heartfelt goodbyes before they fled, he did not expect her to take a lover with a lower social standing. She's so proud and strongminded, he figured she'd be enticing princes and kings rather than having a dalliance with a knight in her father's household. "Did your father know about you and Ser Gilmore?" He asks, lying the skinned pelt off to the side.

She shakes her head. "No. Roderick was going to speak with him about us though." She smiles faintly. "He wanted to ask him for my hand." Her smile drops and he watches as she looks down, her face contorting as though in pain as her lower lip trembles. "Now that's no longer possible. My father is…" Putting her face in her hands, he hears her quiet sobs. As he watches her, he wants very much to hold her and tell her everything is going to be alright, even if he knows that her future is unknown. She peeks up at him and her blush spreads across her cheeks before she buries her face in her arms, embarrassed.

They don't speak again until a little while later once the rabbit has been cooked. Ana had seemed to cry until she no longer could, turned away to try and veil her shame. While women are more than allowed to be emotional, as a Cousland, she wanted to remain strong, even if everything inside her wanted to break down. She said many prayers in her head for Fergus to have made it to Ostagar where he was safe from Howe's betrayal. She wouldn't know what to do if she lost the only family she had left.

They ate in silence for quite a while. Ana was determined to not eat, but a light breeze that floated through the area gave her a whiff of the rabbit, slowly roasting on the makeshift spit over the fire. The hard biscuit that Duncan gave her earlier was thrown out after she stood, forgetting that she had laid it in her lap, and it had fallen into the damp grass. Now her stomach grumbled, communicating its desire to be filled. She bit her lip, glancing at Duncan as he slowly turned the skewed animal over the flames. Her heart pounds as he suddenly glances at her, smiling at her surprise.

"I think it's just about ready. Would you like some?" He asks.

She glances between him and the roasted meat, debating whether she should give in. Her stomach rumbles and she places a hand on it before shrugging nonchalantly. "I suppose." She says, flippantly. "Seeing as this is the best we can get out here." Regardless of how she was acting, she was more than grateful for Duncan's quickness when he was hunting. In fact, she was rather impressed at his ability given his age. Even her father, who she assumed to be close in age with the Warden Commander, had often complained of the pains he felt on a daily basis.

Taking the meat off the fire, Ana watched as he grabbed one of the legs and tore it off with ease before holding it out to her. Tentatively she reaches for it before he pulls it back slightly. Her brows crease.

"Careful," He warns. "It's quite hot." He looks around him for a moment before motioning to one of their packs nearby. "Look in that pack. I managed to get a couple tin plates."

Eager to eat, she crawls over to the pack and rummages around in it before pulling out the plates, she holds them out to him.

"Set them down for me, please." He says, his hands full. She does as she's told and he places the meat on one of them and slides it over to her. With a muttered thanks, she picks it up and takes a deep inhale.

Duncan, who has now taken some meat for himself, sits back, smiling as he watches her tear into the meat as quickly as she can. Feeling his gaze, she looks up. Her mouth is full and some juice runs down her chin as her face reddens. Chuckling, he shoots her a reassuring smile. He's just happy she's finally eating.

Using the back of her hand, she self-consciously wipes the juice away. "There's no need to be ashamed, my lady." He grins. "Where I come from, it's expected for a woman to have a healthy appetite. For more than just food.

She swallows her food. "Oh?" She asks. "Based on your accent, I'm assuming you're referring to Rivain?"

He smiles. "I am. You have a good ear. It's been decades since I've been back home. Most people assume I'm from Ferelden."

"Most people are idiots." She retorts with a cheeky grin. Duncan laughs.

Once they finish eating, Ana rolls out her lumpy bedroll that was given to them by the chantry in Barnston. As she sleeps, Duncan stays awake to keep guard and keep the fire going as the temperature begins to drop. A couple times, he finds himself glancing over at Ana. In his mind, he tries to justify these gazes by thinking to himself that he's only doing so to ensure that she's okay but, in reality, he's a bit transfixed on how beautiful she is. The way the fire lights up her face, her expression calm. Her pouty lips are a velvety dark rouge. For a moment, he wonders about how she likes to be kissed. I wonder what noises she makes as Ser Gilmore kisses her. He muses. Does she lightly moan or give a breathy sigh as many women have when pulled into a loving embrace by their sweethearts? He shakes his head, pushing the thought from his mind before it can lead to more unclean thoughts about other parts of her young, flawless body. Turning his gaze from her, he pulls the map from his pack and rolls it out on his lap, leaning close to make out the small lettering in the firelight. Finding their location, he places a finger on it. His brows knit together in concentration. His eyes move downward. Perhaps we should head towards South Reach. He contemplates. While Arl Bryland is related to Howe by marriage, I know they rarely got along. He was always closer to Bryce. He glances at Ana's sleeping form, frowning. I hope our luck doesn't begin to run out and I'm right.


	9. Blending In For Smart People

Howe sits upon one of the elegant bronze chairs atop the raised platform looking out at the large doors at the end of the hall. Leaning against an arm of the chair, he stares idly, almost expecting Bryce Cousland to burst in and arrest him. That's no longer an issue. He reminds himself with a smirk. I saw with my own eyes as my men wheeled the headless bodies of the dead Teyrn and Teyrna, tossed nonchalantly on a cart with their servants and maids, out to the pyres in the courtyard.

Surprisingly, with all the rain they had gotten the night of the siege, he half expected the courtyard to be flooded. Much to his pleasure and relief, most of the water had begun to dry up with the next day's heat. After having his men rescan the castle to retrieve the bodies littered all around the castle, he was irritated to find out that his fears had been confirmed; Not only are the Warden Commander and Ana's bodies missing but so was Ana's personal guard, Ser Gilmore and her mabari hound.

The doors of the hall suddenly open and he quickly sits up before slumping back down, seeing that it's only one of his scouts. Coming to stand before the platform, the man bows. "My Lord." He greets. Howe beckons him closer "What is it?" He asks. "Have you news on the Warden or the brat?"

The man nods. "I have, My Lord. A Grey Warden with dark skin and hair and a young noblewoman were seen at the Chantry in the nearby town of Barnston."

Howe straightens. "What of her hound and guard? Were they with them as well?"

"No, My Lord." The man says, shaking his head. "It was only them. We've heard no news of the other two."

Howe snorts. "With luck, Ser Gilmore and the hound were set upon by bandits or something and killed." There's a long paused before Howe speaks again. "They're heading south towards Ostagar then." He mutters, more to himself than the soldier. "No doubt going to tell the King…" He turns his hawk-like gaze towards the man. "If they're going the way I think they are, they'll probably try finding aid from my bastard of a brother-in-law, Leonas." He grimaces. "Send some of our fastest men to South Reach. Hopefully we'll be able to intercept them…" He pauses before shrugging. "Either that or at least gain some sort of lead."

"Yes, My Lord." The man bows. "Is there anything else?"

Howe shakes his head, slouching back in the chair with a dismissive wave. "That's all."

* * *

After breaking their fast the next morning, Ana and Duncan quickly pack up and are back on their mount and heading south. By the time they exit the Ashbark Forest, the sun is hanging high in the sky, warming their backs. Duncan kept his gaze trained forward as he felt Ana shift behind him. He felt her warm breath by his neck and her body press against his as she leaned forward. A jolt of excitement ran through him to his groin, making him shift slightly in the saddle. "Duncan?" She asks.

"Yes, My Lady?" He asks, calmly.

"Where are we headed next?"

He turns his head slightly. "I was thinking about heading towards South Reach." He replies, conjuring the route he decided on last night in his mind. "But first, we'll be stopping in Hatfield. Given that I have no idea when this horse was last shoed, I figured it would be wise to have him re-shoed since we still have a long ways to go."

Knowing he can't see it, she frowns. "South Reach?" She asks. "But that's where Arl Bryland is! He's related to Howe!"

"Aye, he is." Duncan nods. "But he also hates his brother-in-law. Seeing as he and your father were close friends, I figured it would be a way to rally some support against Howe. If anything, perhaps he can divert his brother-in-law's men to buy us more time."

"I doubt it. Howe was supposed to be my father's dearest friend as well." She sneers. "We all saw how that turned out."

He feels her lean back once more and sighs. "I know… try not to despair, My Lady. It's not over just yet. If I spot any signs of potential danger, I will protect you."

He waits for her to say something and signs when she doesn't. If only there were something I could do to alleviate her sadness.

* * *

In Hatfield, everything seems to go as expected. While they waited for their horse to have new shoes put on, they wandered through the small marketplace to kill time. Taking notice of Ana's richly embroidered gown, many of the merchants waved them over, in hopes of prizing her coin from her. "Come!" One man, his face aged with broken and yellowing teeth, motioned them over. Much to Duncan's dismay, Ana diverts from their path to look at the man's wares. Seeing his mark walk over, he smiles a wicked smile, holding up a small ordinate box of gold and jade, decorated with small mabari hounds. "You! You, Miss, look like you like fine things!"

She approaches the man, her eyes trained on the small box. "That depends. What do you have there?"

The man holds it out to her which she takes to examine it while Duncan's eyes narrow at him, his hand ready on his pommel. Turning the box around in her hands, she wrinkles her nose. "What is it?"

"It's a box!" The man smiles.

She shoots him a glare. "I know it's a box." She snips. "But surely there's something inside? Why would I want a box when I know actual craftsmen who could make me boxes of far better value and material?"

The man's grin falters for a moment, making Duncan smirk. Once it returns, the man nods to Ana. "Of course! Look inside. Inside is what's really worth it's price in gold." He motions toward the box. "Go ahead. Open it!"

Shifting his gaze, Duncan peeks over Ana's shoulder. She opens it and gives a scornful snort. "Dust?" She asks, looking down her nose at the man. "You dare stand there and try to sell me a box of dust?" With each word, her tone grows louder and more hostile. "Do you take me for a fool?"

"Of course not!" He says quickly. "I would never insult you, dear lady. Tis a true treasure!" Taking the box from her, he opens it and motions to the pile of ash inside. "These are ashes of the Maker's bride herself, Andraste!"

Ana snorts. "You expect me to believe that you found Andraste's long lost ashes? The ones from the stories that have been lost for ages?"

"It is!" The man insists. "I swear on my life!"

"On your life, eh?" Ana smirks, earning a nod from the man. "Your life must not be worth much then." The man glares at her as she continues. "If these are indeed the ashes of Andraste herself, then you are guilty of not only desecrating the prophetess' remains and taking part in illegally obtaining a holy relic but you are now extorting it for money!" She says, loudly. Duncan eyes her curiously as she continues. "Perhaps I should notify the Templars or the Chantry themselves. Surely they would not take kindly to somebody illegally selling their property for profit."

The man looks around nervously as people turn to look at them. "Keep your voice down!" He hisses. This only angers her more.

"How dare you try to tell me quiet down!" She fumes. "Do you know who you're speaking to?"

Duncan looks around at the people watching them. He nudges her. "Ana…" He mutters.

She gives him a dismissive wave and continues on her tirade. "You should learn how to treat your betters, fool!"

"Ana!" Duncan hisses, noticing some men off in the distance in full armor muttering to one another, their eyes trained on her. Somebody stands in the way but Duncan can just barely make out the Arl of Amaranthine bear crest embossed on their breastplates; Howe's men. "Ana!"

Furious, she spins around to face him. "What?" She hisses.

Gently grabbing her arm, he motions away. "Calm down." He says quietly. "We need to leave, now."

With an annoyed huff, she pulls her arm away and turns, hitting the box from the man's hand and spilling the ash and dust all over him as they head off, the man yelling obscenities and cursing her out as they leave. Grabbing her arm again, Duncan maneuvers her through the crowd, looking back every so often to find the armed men following them. They weave in and out and around corners in attempt to evade their pursuers as Ana squirms to get her arm free. "Let me—" She begins to say before Duncan whirls her around into a dark side passage, pinning her against the wall. In seconds, he lifts her hood and his own, leaning forward as he presses a gloved hand to her mouth. She squirms and he mutters a warning to her. Shushing her, he listens as they hear the metal clang of the men's boots on the ground at the opening a couple yards away. Tilting his head slightly to glance over, he peeks around his hood as the men look around puzzled before walking away. He waits until he's sure they're gone before removing his hand and stepping back.

"Forgive me, My Lady." He says, looking around them. "Those were Howe's men." He looks at her as her eyes widen. "You alerted them of our presence when you made a scene."

Folding her arms over her chest, she looks away with a huff, her cheeks reddening. "You could have just said that." She mutters."There was no need to…assault me."

Ignoring her comment, he checks around the corners to make sure their pursuers left before motioning for her to follow. "Come. It's no longer safe here. We need to get back on the road. With luck, we may be able to get to South Reach before them."


	10. Hard in 60 Seconds

Riding swiftly south, they stop as the sun begins to dip below the Southron Hills near the Brecilian Passage. Making camp at the edge of the Brecillian Forest, Ana stands off to the side, listening to the gentle flow of the water nearby while Duncan removes the packs from the horse. Crossing her arms over her chest, she glances over at him. "Is there a tavern nearby that we can stay at instead?" She asks.

Setting the packs down, he shakes his head. "No. There's none close by and even if there were, it's not safe."

"Figures." She sneers. "Maker, what I wouldn't give to have a bath."

"If you wish to wash, there's a spring not too far." He offers, standing from his previous crouching position. "The water is warm and its said to have healing powers."

She thinks about this for a moment. "And where is this spring?" She cautiously asks. "Will you be bathing as well?"

He offers her a smile. "Only before or after you." He reassures. "While you are bathing, I will keep guard. I promise you, I will not look." Even if I am curious to see that beautiful figure in its natural state. "Then once you have bathed, I have some clothes you can change into."

Her eyes narrow. "Where did you get another dress?" She wrinkles her nose. "It's not one of those chantry robes, is it? I refuse to wear that."

"It's not chantry robes." Although that would have probably been better. He picks up the packs once more and walks over to the horse. Once the packs are attached, he takes the reins once more. "It's apparent that as long as you're dressed as a noblewoman, travelling discreetly will be difficult. We need to disguise you a little. I didn't expect Howe's men to have reached as far as Hatfield yet. We were lucky enough to escape this time but, in the future, we need to blend in." He emphasizes the last part, hinting towards her earlier behavior. She rolls her eyes.

"He tried to sell me dust and call it Andraste's ashes!" She exclaims, crossing her arms over her chest. "It was insulting! I'm Ana Cousland, daughter of—"

"You need to relax." He cuts her off. "We can't keep having close encounters because of your outbursts." Turning from her, he looks around them before pointing off through a row of trees. "The springs should be that way. It'd be best to do it with what little light we have left."

Ana sulks as she follows Duncan through the forest, occasionally stopping whenever Duncan needed to look around to ensure they were going the right direction. Entering a small clearing, Duncan stops suddenly and almost collides with his companion. He smiles as he points ahead of them. "There."

Walking around him, she gapes at the small pool. She watches the steam rising from the water as the golden rays of the setting sun filter through the trees and glance off the surface.

Duncan motions to it. "After you, My Lady." He smiles.

She bites her lip as she looks at the water. After sleeping on the ground the night before and travelling in the rain and on a hard saddle for hours, the water was practically calling her name. She glances at him. "Perhaps it would be best that you go first." She offers, catching him by surprise. "After all, you're the one who can fight here. It would be worst if I was caught dressing or undressed if and when somebody attacks us."

"That is true." He nods. "Very well. I will wash first."

He ties the horse to a nearby tree and begins to unpack the blankets to dry off when Ana looks longingly at the water once more.

"Perhaps we should bathe at the same time!" She exclaims, suddenly. Duncan shifts, the blood from his quickened heart going straight to his groin at the thought. His expression remains passive as he shoots her a glance, making a blush creep to her cheeks. "What I mean is that the pool is big enough so that we could be on either side." She quickly explains. "If somebody were to attack, I could cower in the water, covered, while you fight."

Duncan, who aside from offering to bathe separately out of respect, has no problem bathing near each other. Being a Warden, he was usually always on the move recruiting and had on occasion had to share intimate spaces with men and women alike during his travels. Given, most of the time, the women who were present tended to visit his tent at night to see if the rumors of the sexual prowess of the Wardens were true.

"True…" He nods. "I will do as you choose."

She looks at the water once more. "Together." She says, raising her chin. "I'll go in first. That way I can choose which side I want and submerge myself." Duncan nods before reaching into one of the packs for the small brick of soap. Pulling out his dagger, he slices off a piece and hands it to her

He turns away from the water and Ana cautiously walks behind him towards the edge of the pool. Pulling off her shoes, she steps on the cold ground and winces. She takes off her cloak and sets it off to the side, her heart quickening. She clears her throat. "Duncan?"

"Hm?"

"I need help with my dress." She says, the heat rising to her cheeks. "I need you to unlace the back."

Turning around, he waits as she moves her hair from her neck. His eyes pour over the gentle slope of her neck to the smooth breadth of skin between her shoulders. Stepping forward, he gently pulls the strings, pausing as he hears her breath catch. She's nervous, just like she was when you laced her dress. He thinks to himself. She's probably only used to Ser Gilmore doing this.

Picking up the pace, he loosens the laces before standing back. "There." He says, calmly. He turns away and she mutters a quick thank you. Glancing over her shoulder to ensure he's not looking, she slips the dress off her shoulders and wriggles it off her hips to the ground. She steps out of it and moves it with her foot, covering herself with her hands as she peeks back.

Holding her hands out for support, she carefully steps into the pool and feels the warmth radiate through her. Anxiously she steps in before crouching down to submerge herself up to her jaw. She gives a soft gasp as the water envelopes her sore muscles from riding.

Hearing her gasp, he puts his hand on his pommel and turns to look before his eyes fall on her. He gapes at her, his hand falling from his pommel as she leans back, her eyes closed, as she wets her dark hair. As if from a fantasy, he sees her pert breasts peek out of the water, her dark pink nipples erect. Feeling his growing arousal, he reluctantly turns back around.

Ana opens her eyes to look up at the dark green canopy, smiling. Her eyes flick over to Duncan who is still waiting patiently with his back to her. Looking around, she moves over to one side of the medium sized pool and lowers herself down into the foggy, jade colored water, submerging herself far enough to cover her from the neck down. "Okay." She calls. "I'm in."

Duncan, whose eyes are still closed to keep the erotic image he has just witnessed in his mind, turns his head slightly. "Are you covered?" He asks, his voice husky.

"I am." She calls, reaching up to cover her eyes. "And my eyes are covered."

Not that you need it. He thinks, smirking to himself. Feel free to look all you like.

Unsheathing his sword, he sets it near the edge of the pool before he begins to unstrap his armor. He strips down to his trousers before he casts a glance toward Ana.

"Are you in the water?" She asks, her voice slightly muffled behind her hands.

He grins. "Almost. One moment." Looking down, he sees that the front of his trousers are already tented from his arousal.

Ana's heart quickens as her curiosity starts to eat at her. What could it look like? She wondered. She's only seen two in her life with Darrien and Roderick. She hears something enter the water ahead of her and peeks through her fingers, worried it's some animal. Instead, she catches a glimpse of something and turns to look as Duncan carefully lowers himself into the water. Her eyes travel down his scarred and muscular torso, covered in downy black hair. Ana bites the inside of her lip as she looks downward and sees the erect shaft, sprouted from a tuft of wiry black hair at the center of his thighs. She quickly looks away, her heart pounding in her chest, before she could take in any more features. Strangely, it wasn't as she thought it would be for a man his age. The shaft was a slightly darker shade than his already tanned body and head was a dark pink-ish purple, it's tip slick looking.

Turned away, she opened her eyes and kept them cast down toward the water as she absently scrubbed herself. To distract herself, her thoughts turned to Roderick and she could feel the tears beginning to well up. Where could he be now? She wondered. Is he safe? Is Much? Her grief stabbed at her like a searing knife at the thought of anything happening to either of them.

Once she was sufficiently clean, she let Duncan know and he told her where her blanket was to dry up. She casts a quick glance at his back before hopping out and taking the blanket from the pile. Wrapping it around her, she ties it off near the top to keep it on. As she starts towards one of the giant rocks to sit and wait, she hears a twig snap in the distance. Her eyes widen as they dart in the direction of the sound. "Um… Duncan?" She says, uneasily.

Whirling around, he reaches for his sword on the ledge before starting toward the edge. He looks up to see two Dalish elves, one male and one female, with one bow drawn toward the blanket clad Ana and the other with one trained on him. Holding up his hands, he gently sets his sword down.


	11. Desperate Defiance

"What are you shemlens doing in our forest?" The man asks, his bow trained on Duncan. "Who are you?"

"We are not enemies." Duncan carefully says. "We're just passing through."

The woman says something in Dalish that neither of the two humans can understand. The man watches Duncan with a thoughtful expression before lowering his bow. "Very well. We're taking you to speak with our Keeper."

"Now?" Ana asks, hugging the blanket protectively. "We're not dressed!"

The man shoots her a glare. "You may dress first but I recommend you hurry, Shem."

The man and woman walk off to the side, speaking once more in their tongue while Ana rounds to look at Duncan. "Now what?" She hisses, her eyes wide with panic.

"We go with them." Walking to the edge of the pool, he points towards the horse. "In the right saddlebag, there are clothes you may change into."

She turns to look where he's pointing, frowning. "But—" She starts to argue. She turns back to him just as he's tying the blanket around his waist.

"Go." He says, firmly. "As he said, we must hurry."

Placing a hand on her bare shoulder, he leads her towards the horse. Feeling the elves' gaze, Ana shivers as she waits for Duncan to retrieve the clothing. He hands it to her and motions towards the horse's opposite side. "You may change over there for some privacy."

Ana wrinkles her nose as she looks down at the dull tan, brown and grey clothing in her arms before letting out a defeated sigh. With the elves watching him, Duncan quickly dresses and straps his armor on, as he's done so many times before. "How is it, My Lady?" He calls over the horse. "I had to guess on your size."

She moves out from behind the horse, clad in a simple tan tunic, brown trousers and boots. She pulls and shifts the dark grey corset over the tunic which, given the loose lacing over the shirt, gives a glimpse at the tops of her ample breasts. "Aside from being ugly as sin and the corset a little tight around my chest, it's good enough, I guess." She mutters with a grimace.

He frowns. "Do you need me to loosen the laces a little?" He offers. "While it is only temporary, we still have a while to go before we get to Ostagar."

"Are you two ready yet?" The man calls, his hand visibly clenching around his bow stave with impatience.

Duncan calls to him that they're almost ready before turning back to Ana. He raises a brow. She draws a breath before shaking her head. "There are no laces. Only buckles which I already have loosened as it is." She draws and releases another breath before shaking her head again. "It's fine. It'll have to work… for now."

Duncan nods and they quickly gather their things. Ana puts her cloak back on, eyeing the Dalish watching them nervously.

With Duncan leading the horse with its reins, they follow the elves. They glance back every so often to ensure they're still following before looking forward and talking to one another. Walking alongside Duncan, she leans toward him. "Duncan." She whispers. He looks over at her. "Have we done something wrong?" She asks, her eyes wide.

He motions to the elves ahead of them. "The Dalish typically travel and camp through the Brecillian Forest." He explains. "They do not like having humans wandering around."

The elves stop ahead of them and Ana's heart begins to pound. "What's happening?" She whispers as they turn to them.

"We need to blindfold you." The man says, flatly.

"Why?"

"They don't like having humans know where their camp is located." Duncan explains. The woman steps forward with a couple scraps of cloth and hands it to them. Duncan obeys while Ana looks between the three of them like they're mad.

"How will we watch where we're going?" Ana says, cantankerous.

They look at one another before the man points to the horse. "You can both ride and we'll lead."

Ana begins to argue but Duncan speaks before she has a chance. "We understand." He lifts his blindfold enough to get into the saddle and holds his hand out to her. She lets out an annoyed huff but takes his hand. Once they are sitting and blindfolded, Duncan holds the reins. They start moving and Ana leans close to Duncan's neck, misjudging the distance, her lips brush against it. Her face flushes as she apologizes. Thank the Maker he can't see me right now.

Duncan's body tenses momentarily as he feels her soft lips on his neck. The image of her beautifully naked body in the water resurfaced in his mind and he quickly pushes it from his mind. Now is not the time to be fantasizing about his new recruit. He turns his head slightly so he can hear her. "Are they going to kill us?" She whispers. "We weren't doing anything wrong!"

"Just remain calm." He says. "Don't argue with them. We don't want to come off as a threat."

"Us come off as a threat?" She hisses critically. "They're the ones taking us captive!"

Duncan hushes her and faces forward again as she sulks. When they finally stop, they hear the man talking to another man in Dalish. The woman watches them as the man returns and tells them to get down from their mount. Duncan nods and cranes his neck. "Ana, you need to get off first."

"Can I at least take the bloody blindfold off first?" She sneers. "It'd be nice to see what I'm doing." Duncan sighs in response before the man says they can.

Removing their makeshift blindfolds, Ana begins to complain about their treatment but stops short, gaping at the sight of the Dalish camp. Situated within a narrow valley, the path through the hills is lit up with torches. Two elven guards, both unfriendly and armed, stand at the entrance. They watch her with distaste as she slips down from the saddle, followed by Duncan. The man motions for them to follow and they pass between the guards. Ana and Duncan begin to follow before they are stopped by one of the guards. Their captors turn to watch the altercation while the guards stare them down.

"We'll need to have you relinquish your weapons before you enter."

Duncan nods and begins to hand over his weapons while the guards ready their own as Ana's brows furrow. "Why?" She asks before quickly shaking her head. "I'm sorry but I can't do that."

Duncan shoots her a scornful look. "Ana…" He warns. "Do as you're asked."

She shakes her head defiantly. "No. This is all I have left of my family!" She exclaims. She clenches her fists at her sides and raises her chin, her lower lip trembling as she tries to sound strong. "Let me in and I promise I will not do anything. After all, I'm only here by their request." She points to the man and woman standing behind them.

"Like we're going to take the word of a Shem." The guard sneers.

"You'll be able to have it back once you leave." The other guard, who turns out is a woman, says. "All we ask is that to ensure our people's safety, you go in unarmed."

Ana opens her mouth to protest once more but Duncan let's out an annoyed sigh as he rounds on her. He grabs her sword belt and works to untie it while Ana squirms and voices her objections to no avail. He removes the belt and, shooting her another reproachful look, hands it off to the female guard. "My apologies." He mutters, before turning to the others behind them. "Please continue."

The guards glare at her as she follows the others into the camp. As they pass through the camp, men, women and children alike stop what they're doing to gawk at the humans that now trail after their own, some spitting in their direction. A couple times, Ana looks over at the strange boat like carriages as they pass them. Following her gaze, Duncan leans toward her. "Those are aravels." He says quietly. "It's how the Dalish travel around." He motions toward the nearest one with his chin. "You see the sails?"

Ana looks at it, the olive-green sails with a large halla head on it rustles in the breeze. She nods.

"That is how you can identify which group they are." He explains. "It's very much like the banners of noble houses."

Their captors come to a halt before a small caravan and turn to face them. "Stay here." The man says flatly. "I will tell our Keeper that you're here." He leaves them with the woman who glares at Ana, as if expecting her to attack them.

"Nevan!"

They turn as a woman quickly rushes toward a young elven boy, who sits a couple yards away. She shoots them a distrustful glance before leading him away. Feeling self-conscious with all the hateful looks, Ana wraps her arms around herself as though they can shield her. Within moments, the man returns with an older woman, her silvery-white hair pulled back into a braided bun at the back of her head and her face tattooed with gold. Unlike the rest of her clan, she looks over at them, her gaze and demeanor friendly and inviting.

"These are the shems we found wandering the forest, Keeper." The man says, sneering at Ana. "What do you wish to do with them?"

She holds up her hand to signal for peace. "Atisha, Tamlen." She offers them a warm smile. "Forgive us, Duncan. It's good to see you again."

Both Tamlen and Ana look between them, perplexed. "You know this shem?" Tamlen asks.

"Tamlen, please show some courtesy." She says, gently. "You are standing in the presence of the Warden-Commander of the Grey himself."

Coming to his realization, Tamlen quickly kneels before them, his head bent. "Ir abelas, Ser." He says. "I did not know it was you."

Reaching out to touch the young man's shoulder, Duncan smiles. "No harm done, lad. You did what you had to protect your people. I can respect that."

Tamlen rises once more and Duncan moves aside slightly and nudges Ana forward. "Forgive us for intruding, Keeper Marethari. When your hunters found us, we were taking refuge in your forest for the night." He motions to Ana. "This young woman is my newest recruit, Analise Cousland. She's the daughter of Bryce Cousland, Teyrn of Highever up north."

Marethari nods, offering Ana a warm smile. "Andaran atish'an, Lady Ana." She greets, bowing her head. "I've heard of your father."

"Unfortunately, the reason for our intrusion is because her home was overtaken recently by Arl Howe and her parents were killed." He explains. Tamlen looks over at her, shooting her a sympathetic glance which Ana tries to ignore. "I am taking her to Ostagar to become a Grey Warden and reporting to the king of Howe's betrayal."

The Keeper frowns. "Ir abelas, my dear. I am very sorry to hear about your loss."

Fearing to say anything for fear of crying, she gives a meek nod. Her face burns as she feels Tamlen's sympathetic gaze still trained on her. The Keeper notices and turns to the young man. "Tamlen, go with Lia and see if Maren needs any help finding those herbs she spoke of."

Hesitantly, he nods before he and the woman that found them head off to do as their Keeper says. As they leave, Marethari sighs. "I wish I could offer you a place to stay here for the night but many of my people are wary of humans."

"I understand." Duncan nods. "Seeing that you at least know the area fairly well, perchance there's a small clearing we can camp the night nearby? As I'm sure you understand, somewhere concealed would be preferable."

Looking back towards where they entered, her brows furrow in concentration. "Following the path away from here, there's a weald west of here."

Duncan nods. "Thank you, Keeper. Once again, sorry for the intrusion."

"Safe travels to the both of you." She says before turning away from them.

They set off back towards the entrance and Ana practically needs to jog to keep up with Duncan's quick pace. They retrieve their weapons from the two guards and once more climb atop their horse.


	12. Not Exactly A Master of Disguise

The moonlight shines just enough to give them a light to travel by until they find the small weald that the Keeper told them about. They hop down and, almost immediately, Duncan unloads their supplies for the night and sets up camp. Ana, pulls her cloak closer around her as a cold breeze blows through. Soon, they have a small crackling fire going and sit on either side. Over the flames of the fire, Ana watches Duncan as he pulls out a whetstone and sharpens his dagger. She has no idea how long she watches but she feels her eyes growing tired and starts to close her eyes when Duncan suddenly rises from his seat, newly sharpened dagger in hand.

"Come here." He says, walking towards her. Her eyes fly open and she scrambles back, clumsily reaching for her sword.

"What are you doing?" She exclaims, unsheathing it only to suddenly drop it. Calmly, Duncan kneels beside her. Her heart pounds loudly in her chest. Is this it? Has he been in alliance with Howe this entire time? "Is this because of how I acted earlier?" She cries.

"Ana, I'm not going to hurt you." Duncan says gently. "Remember earlier when I said we need to disguise you?"

"You're going to disfigure me?" She gapes.

Duncan shakes his head. "No, fatat eaziza." Why would any man ever want to disfigure such a beautiful creature like you? He thinks to himself. The image of her in the spring resurfaces and he clears his throat. "We've changed your clothes but noblewomen like yourself are known for their long hair."

Her brows furrow as she shakes her head. "No! You're not cutting my hair!"

"Ana—"

She scooches backwards. "No! I refuse."

"Ana, this is not a matter that's up for debate." He frowns. "Your hair will grow back and it will give you a better chance of blending in." He leans back on his heels. "Need I remind you what blending in does for you right now?"

She turns her face away, sulking. "It keeps me safe." She mutters. She shuts her eyes tightly. "Fine."

Leaning forward, he gently gathers her hair into a loose pony tail, his eyes sweeping over the flawless fair skin at the nape of her neck. For a moment, he wondered how she would react to a man kissing her neck, starting at the nape and moving inward.

"Is it done?" She asks, her tone laced with a subtle nervousness. Since his callused fingers first touched her skin, she felt a shiver shoot up her spine. It reminded her of how Roderick used to come up behind her when she was alone in the library. Sliding one hand around her waist, he would often slide her hair to the side and kiss the sensitive areas of her neck in between whispering sweet nothings in her ear. He knew all the spots to kiss to make her giggle or make a soft moan escape. Now, just like in the past, this familiar touch awoke her nerve endings and all the other sensations that came with it.

"Just about." He says huskily. Lifting the hair from her neck, he begins to hack away until her hair goes from the middle of her back to just below her shoulders. Immediately she felt the difference and felt the first angry, rogue tears break free of the waterline and silently slide down her cheeks. He was right in that her hair will grow back but the reason she was crying was not because of her hair begging cut short but because it was similar to her life. Things are different now and while they may recover, things won't be the same as they once were.

"There." Duncan says, leaning back once more to look at his handiwork. "How does it feel?"

She says nothing as she silently weeps and he gently touches her shoulder, turning her. She looks up at him as another tear slips down her cheek. Acting purely on instinct, he reaches up to cup her cheek. Their eyes meet as he wipes her tear away with his thumb. Her lips part slightly, her heart pounding in her chest. She waits, expecting him to close the gap between them and press his lips against hers but he doesn't.

Maker… look at her. He thinks, his eyes looking down at her lips as he traces her full lower lip with his thumb. She's practically waiting for me to make a move. I could probably take her here and now on this grassy ground if I played my cards right. It was tempting until his conscience decided to weigh in. She's too young for you, you old fool. Not only that, she already has a lover and she's vulnerable. She just lost her home, family and social standing in one night. She needs to be comforted not fucked, no matter how tempting it is. He meets her gaze once more. "Everything will be alright." He says, his voice straining slightly at his restraint. "Soon, we'll be at Ostagar. We'll tell the king and Howe will get what's coming to him. I promise you."

She takes a deep breath and Duncan feels his arousal pressing against his trousers as he watches the tops of her breasts rise and fall from the loosely laced opening of her shirt. She nods. "I hope so."

With every ounce of restraint that he can muster, he retracts his hand. "You should head to bed, My Lady. We have more long days of journeying ahead of us."


	13. Welcome To Ostagar

Arl Leonas Bryland sat at his desk in his study, looking over the correspondences from his daughter, Habren. "Maker's Breath," He mutters under his breath. "I swear… we'll need a whole new estate to house all the "little trinkets" that that girl keeps buying."

There's a sharp rap on the door before a soldier enters the study. Leonas looks up as the soldier salutes him. "Sorry to interrupt, My Lord."

Setting his daughter's letter down, he leans back. "What is it?"

"Arl Rendon Howe's men are here and requesting an audience."

Leonas wrinkles his nose. "Why?" He asks, sourly.

The soldier shrugs and his master sighs. "Fine." He says, rising from his seat. "Tell them I'll be there in a moment."

When the Arl enters the room, he finds two soldiers with Howe's bear crest standing near the head of the long table of his dining hall. He rolls his eyes before approaching them. "What can I do for you, gentlemen?" He asks, his annoyance coming through in his tone. "If your master is requesting I send men to aid him whatever ridiculous cause he's supporting, you should remind him that I have already told him that I have no men to spare. I already sent a bulk towards Ostagar to help the king."

"Forgive us, Arl Bryland." One of the soldiers says with a bow. "We have been sent here to ask if you know the whereabouts of a certain noblewoman."

"And which woman do you speak of?" Leonas asks, his brow raising with interest. After his wife's death after the birth of his daughter, he was known to court young and beautiful noblewomen but he couldn't for the life of him figure out why Howe would care. Usually it was the husbands or fiancés that came to ask them about his flirtations with their women.

"The Lady Analise Cousland." The other, a waspish looking man, asks.

Leonas raises a brow. While Bryce and Eleanor's daughter was quite the beauty, out of respect for his former comrade, he stayed far away from her as far as flirtations go. Luckily for him, her haughty attitude reminded him far too much of his own daughter who's set to turn fifteen this year. "Bryce's daughter?" He asks, his voice clipped. "Why in the world would I know of her location? Surely if you wish to know about her, you can ask Bryce or Eleanor. I don't have time to keep track of other's people's children."

"Can't ask people who are dead." The other one says with a conniving smirk, earning a glare from his companion.

Leonas' face falls. "Dead? Both the Teyrn and Teyrna? How? When?"

"Those are things that you can ask your bother-in-law about." The waspish man sneers. "Otherwise we would greatly appreciate knowing if you see or hear anything about Lady Ana."

Without awaiting a dismissal, the men turn on their heel and leave, leaving the Arl to watch after them. Bryce and Eleanor are dead? He stumbles backwards and raises a hand to stable himself on the nearby table. One of the guards standing nearby starts toward him but he absently waves them away. It feels as though he's been punched in the gut and then doused in ice water. How could this have happened? Glancing off towards the doors the men exited, his gaze darkens. Rendon has always been a jealous and ambitious man. He recalls. I would bet every sovereign I have that Howe was involved in the death of the Teyrn and his wife. Straightening, he makes a beeline toward the doors, barely waiting for the guardsmen to open them before heading to is study. I must inform the King! May the Maker watch over Ana and Fergus.

* * *

It took a little less than half a day to reach South Reach. Unlike before changing her appearance, the people who look up from their work didn't gawk at them as they usually did but instead immediately turned their attentions back to what they were doing. Ana leans forward. "Nobody is looking at us!" She says.

"Good. That's the point." Duncan says with a nod. "The less attention we draw, the better."

Trotting through the town, she looks up at the castle set a bit higher on the hill as it overlooks the buildings containing shops and houses huddled together around a marketplace. Frowning, she leans her face toward his neck, this time keeping a bit of a distance. "Do you really think the Arl will help us?" She asks for the third time since they set out that morning. Each time, Duncan managed to keep his tone even and try to be patient. He knew that she was just nervous and had every right to be so. After all, for the longest time, she was under the impression that Howe and her father were close friends until his betrayal. How could she know if Howe's brother-in-law wouldn't suddenly align himself with his supposed enemy? "I cannot promise anything, my lady." Duncan replies. "At the very least, we can at least ask him to deter Howe's men if they come by." If he'll even do that. When we get in, I'll be able to look him in the eyes and determine whether or not Ana is safe in his home.

Riding through the streets, Duncan notices as the traffic of people in the streets becomes smaller as they head toward the castle. They ride down a street completely void of people with the only sound they hear is the loud clomping of the horse's hooves on the cobblestone. He didn't like the feeling he was getting as they drew closer to the small bridge that connected the castle to the other side of the hill. His eyes scan the area for any sign of danger as the feeling in his gut intensified. Ana could sense it in him as he felt her grip tighten around him.

A crow caws overhead and Duncan looks up. He had heard a saying about crows once when he was travelling with a young mage who had been curious about the rumors she heard of the Riviani. What was that saying… He narrows his eyes as he gazes up at it, as though he could make the saying appear in the sky by pure will. It takes him a couple seconds before it comes it him and he grimaces. When you hear a lone crow caw and the sky is open, turn away from the impending misery that awaits at the sight of this bad omen.

As the phrase comes to him, his eyes fall on the soldiers that round the corner towards them. Reaching for his daggers, he turns his head slightly. "Ana," He mutters. "When I say go, take the reins and ride as swiftly as you can back towards the market place. Do you understand?"

Ana's eyes widen. "What?"

He has no chance to repeat himself as the soldiers take notice of his armor and yell to him. In moments, he shifts his legs to one side and, with surprising agility for a man of his age, flips backwards off the horse and unsheathes his twin daggers. "Go!" He calls to her before running towards the soldiers. Panicked, she fumbles for the reins as a small explosion sets off in front of her and smoke rises up, spooking the horse. It whinnies and bucks up before she has a chance to grab the reins, sending her toppling to the ground.

The smoke parts and Ana's eyes widen as she sees the soldier charge toward her, the Amaranthine crest gleaming brightly in the light. Scrambling to her feet, she struggles to remove her family shield from the pack as the horse continues to buck. "Come on you bloody shield!" She mutters, pulling and wiggling it before it finally gives way, hitting the oncoming soldier right in the face. There's a loud metallic clang as the metal strikes the man's helmet, making him stagger back slightly holding his head. In the sudden release, the shield flies out of her hands and lands a couple feet away. The soldier and her look at the shield, exchanging a glance before she makes a break for it. As she lunges for it, her fingers barely make contact before she's tackled to the ground. Wind rushes out her lungs as the man straddles her. "You're coming with me." He growls.

"Like hell I am." She gasps, squirming. She tries to hit him but he pins her arms down. She tries to yell for Duncan but struggles to draw each breath before a sword pierces through the man's stomach moments before it disappears. The man's eyes bug out as he coughs, blood spurting out his mouth and landing on a wide-eyed Ana. The man is kicked to the side and Duncan appears from behind him, his cheek smeared with fresh blood.

"Are you alright?" He asks.

She manages to draw a shaky breath before nodding. He quickly wipes the blood from his silverite sword on his sleeve and sheathes it before holding a hand out to her. She takes it and is almost instantly hoisted onto her feet before she loses balance from the sudden rush of blood and falls forward onto his chest. He holds her, listening to the ragged breaths. "You probably got the wind knocked out of you when he tackled you." He says quietly, surveying the area to ensure no other enemies lay waiting to attack. "Take a moment to catch your breath."

Carefully he removes himself and walks over to the shield which now lies on the cobblestone. He picks it up and looks at it before turning to her. "I was worried he was going to kill you."

"You and me both." She mutters, doubling over as she finally is able to fill her lungs with a full breath. She straightens and brings her sleeve up to her face. Grimacing at the cheap fabric, she wipes of the man's blood from her face. "If they're here, they must have already been speaking to Arl Bryland."

Duncan nods solemnly. "Seems so." He looks off towards the castle with the battlements raised high above the roofs of the surrounding buildings. "We have no way of knowing if there any men waiting inside either." He says, more to himself than to her. He glances around in search for their horse which bolted mid-fight. "We'll just have to carry on to Ostagar." Spotting it at an abandoned stall around the corner, he hands her the shield before going to retrieve their horse.

* * *

The next five days, they continue southeast, only stopping to water the horse or sleep for a few hours before they wake up and do it all over again. Ana, whom is unused to the constant travel and excitement that had been happening recently, slumped against Duncan's back. Once the high arches and matching columns of the Tevinter ruins of Ostagar began to emerge from the fog that had been surrounding them for the past couple hours, Duncan turns his head to the side. "Ana." He calls over his shoulder.

"Hm?" She mutters with a yawn. "Is it time to stop?"

"We're here."

Straightening, she rubs her eyes before peering around Duncan's broad pauldron. Her eyes widened as the ruins became clearer; the large structures looming overhead like giant white sentinels like ghosts from a time long passed. Coming near the entrance, Ana watches in confusion as Duncan climbs down from the saddle before turning to offer her a hand. "Welcome to Ostagar, my lady." He says.

She looks out across the long bridge leading into the heart of the ruins. From where she stands, she can just barely make out the two armed guards standing at the entryway.

"Since Fergus left Highever before the siege, do you think he could be here?" She asks hopefully.

Duncan frowns. "It's hard to say." He admits. "We have no idea which route he took, what he's faced or anything." He motions off towards the bridge with his head. "You will have to look for him inside."

Taking his offered hand, she dismounts and looks up at him, puzzled. "Me? You're leaving me?"

He grabs the reins and nods. Pausing as he sees her alarmed expression, he places a hand on her shoulder. "There is nothing you need to worry about now. Howe won't be able to get to you here."

She glances anxiously at the entrance at the far end of the bridge. "But…what am I supposed to do?"

He offers her a half smile. "Feel free to explore the camp, if you wish. I only ask that you do not leave it for the time being." As he looked at her, he thought about whether he should suggest looking for her mabari and lover, Ser Gilmore, but thought against it. I don't want to get her hopes up in case they're not around. Together they begin walking alongside one another as they cross the bridge which, given its approximate age, is fairly well in tact along with most of the buildings ahead. "Somewhere in the camp, there's another Grey Warden by the name of Alistair. He's a fairly new recruit himself but I recommend seeking him out. He will be your guide before you and the other recruits go through your Joining."

"So, there's other recruits? Will I meet them as well?" She asks.

He nods. "Yes. I'm sure they're scattered around camp if you want to speak with them. Later, I will summon all of you for a special task."

Her brow furrows. "Wait, what about Ser Gilmore? Will we not be waiting for him? I thought he was also being recruited?"

"He is." Duncan says carefully.

Just by the tone of his voice, she knew what he was thinking. "You don't think he made it… do you?" She says, her face falling. Her eyes move downward and Duncan feels guilt grip at his heart. How he wished he could tell her that he's fine. He could be sitting in the camp at this very moment but it was impossible to know. He shrugs.

"Much like with Fergus, it's hard to say." He watches as her shoulders droop slightly. Pausing she stops to look up at him and he places a finger under her chin, offering her a smile. "You'll just have to check camp. If he's not around, we'll wait a couple days but no more."

This seemed to cheer her up a little as she returns his smile. "Thank you."

He turns away from her and begins walking with the horse when Ana calls out to him. "Wait!" He pauses. "Where will I find you if I need you?"

He points toward the entrance. "On the other side of this bridge, behind that tower, there's a tent with the Warden crest hanging above the canvas." He says. "I'll be most likely in there conducting business after I check in with the King." He waits for a moment to see if she has anything else before he continues on his way.


	14. Open Mouth, Insert Foot

Ana looks around her at the ancient structures all around her. Everything looks so tall yet, compared to the Southron Hills in the background, they seem dwarfed. This is it. She thinks, slowly stepping forward. Walking forward, she can feel the blood rushing through her ears as her heart pounds nervously in her chest. She fingers the hemmed fabric of her tunic, carefully walking around the holes in the bridge, looking up occasionally at the huge warrior statues that stare down at her. She approaches the entrance flanked by the guards, their armor and shields emblazoned with the King's crest. She pauses at the entrance, her nerves getting the best of her. What's to stop me from just turning back and leaving? She thinks with a frown. I never signed up for this.

"Miss?"

She jumps slightly as she hears one of the men address her. Her eyes widen before she quickly tries to appear confident. Three fourths of the man's face is concealed by his helmet as he looks at her. "Are you alright, miss?"

She quickly nods. "I was just trying to remember where I needed to go." She says, lamely. Twisting her hands anxiously before her, she tilts her head slightly. "Has a man named Fergus arrived recently, leading a small army?"

"I don't know, Miss." The man shrugs. "You'll have to check with the people inside. General Loghain might know. He tends to keep track of the soldiers that arrive."

Ana nods. "And where will I find the General?"

The man turns to point through the entrance. "At the far south end of camp, the General's tent will be right beside the King's."

Following with her eyes to where he's pointing, she nods. "I'm assuming I'll find the King in his tent as well? I have an urgent matter to speak with him about."

The guard shrugs. "He might be but, if he is, he'll probably be with Loghain going over important matters. Either that or he'll be drinking with the Wardens; He fancies them."

Her brows furrow. The King drinks…with his soldiers?" She asks, receiving a brisk nod.

"He likes to spend time with them, sometimes without even his body guards! It drives his teyrn insane."

"I can imagine." She frowns. Raising her chin, she nods and thanks him before striding confidently through the archway. Once inside, she pauses as her eyes fall on the giant ancient Tevinter warrior statues that flank the tall building directly ahead of her. Her eyes wander over their shadowed faces and the weapons they hold, all of which is remarkably still in tact. As she examines them. She finds herself recalling bits and pieces of a lesson she had had with Aldous about the Tevinter Imperium. At the time, her relationship with Ser Gilmore was new and she spent most of her lessons thinking about their shared kiss from the night of the ball rather than paying attention to her old tutor drone on about Tevinter's mage-led society and their downfall following their war with the Qunari. In fact, she wasn't even sure what a Qunari looked like aside from the fact that they had horns. She frowns at the thought of Aldous' untimely death and feels the tears prickle her eyes before pushing the thought away.

Taking a deep breath, she breaks her gaze as she hears the sharp barking of a mabari in the distance. "Much?" She mutters, glancing down either way. The left path leads to a set of expensive looking tents, surrounded by a wooden palisade wall. That must be the king's tents that the guard was talking about. She thinks to herself as she glances down the other path. Her brows raise slightly as she sees the mage, standing in a small clearing surrounded by crumbling archways, with a light ball of energy levitating before them while a fully armed guard stands near the entrance. That must be a templar. Why else would they station a guard near a mage?

Taking the first path, she hears another bark and quickens her pace, scanning the area for the source of the barking. As she enters the large clearing with paths leading every which way, she passes two armored men standing in grey and blue tunics near a small fire. Seeing her pause to look around, the younger one grins and nudges his companion before motioning toward her. "Now that's what I'm talking about." He mutters, licking his lips as he eyes her. "What I wouldn't give to have that one warm my bed at night. Watch this." His companion snickers and he calls out to her. "Hey!"

Hearing a voice calling out nearby, she turns to look at the men. The younger one of the two smiles as he approaches her. "You look a bit lost. Need some help?"

She looks around her, unsure, as she finds nobody else within proximity. She glances back at him. "I hear mabaris barking." She says. "Are there dogs here?":

"Well, this is Fereleden, is it not?" He chuckles, coolly running a hand through his short, pale blonde hair. His amused grey gaze meets hers as she shoots him an annoyed look. Straightening, he nods. "Yes, there are mabari hounds here. The king has some pens set up on the western side of the camp where they're all being held." His smile returns as he chances a look at her while she looks in the direction he indicated. "I can show you, if you like?"

She looks back at him. "No, I'm good. Any idiot can figure out which way is west." She says bluntly. "Also, the sound of mabaris is a good indicator."

The man's smile falls as his companion stifles a laugh, earning a glare from his friend. The man clears his throat and puts on a smile once more. "Of course. In that case, how about after dinner tonight, you meet me near the Warden's tent for a drink?" He offers. "I mean, the battle will be coming up and we could all die. Why not enjoy our time now? If the night goes well, I may even let you join me on my bedroll tonight. I'm sure you've heard of the sexual prowess of the Wardens, yes?"

She looks him over critically. "You're a Grey Warden?" She snorts.

"We both are." He motions over to his friend who watches the spectacle with an amused expression. Folding his arms over his chest, he leans against the building behind him. The younger man continues. "What do you say?"

She pretends to think for a moment. "I bet it does get very lonely in your tent…" She says with a feigned frown. "It must also be very cold at night and you both look like you know how to warm a person at night, correct?"

The older man's brows rise in surprise but says nothing as his friend smirks. "That we do. Due to our profession, we also have quite the endurance. I can make you stay happy and warm all night."

She nods as though considering it before grinning. "In that case…"

"Daniel." He says, quickly. "My name is Daniel and behind me is Roy."

Ana nods in acknowledgment to Roy before turning back to Daniel. "In that case, Daniel, you and Roy here can fuck each other's brains out and keep each other warm all night long." She shoots them both a glare. "I don't sleep with people who are beneath me." She sneers, turning to walk away.

Daniel' smirk flickers for a moment but remains as he steps in front of her. "That wouldn't be a problem then since you would actually be beneath me." He smirks. "What do you say?"

"I say, if I wanted to fuck a Grey Warden so badly, it sure as hell wouldn't be you." She tries to step away again only to have him block her stride once more. Her eyes flash at him. "Get out of my way, peasant." She growls.

"Peasant?" Daniel chuckles. "You think you're a princess or something?"

"No. My father is a teyrn." She says, raising her chin. "My father is good friends with the King. If you don't let me pass…"

"What? The King will do something?" Daniel asks with a scornful laugh. He lowers his face close to hers as his icy grey eyes level with her own. "The King is a fool. He's fond of the Grey Wardens and I doubt he would do anything to me lest it turn our order against him. Can't have a glorious battle without the famous Grey Wardens now can he?"

Ana's heart pounded nervously in her chest but her eyes stay narrowed with a steely glare. She has no idea what this man is capable of and didn't feel like letting up to find out. Touching her mother's dagger on her belt, she opens her mouth to demand he step aside once again when she notices Roy straighten behind his friend. "Daniel." He hisses.

"What do we have here?" A man cheerfully asks from behind her. Daniel's steely gaze flicks to the man approaching.

"This is none of your business, Alistair." He sneers. "As Duncan's favorite lapdog, I'm sure you have some other things to attend to. Perhaps Duncan needs his chamber pot emptied or needs you to wipe his arse?"

Ana keeps her eyes trained on Daniel as Alistair frowns, ignoring his fellow warden's previous comment. "Come on now guys, it looks like the lady doesn't want to be disturbed."

"Fuck off, stable boy." Daniel spits. "Like I said before, this doesn't concern you."

Alistair stays where he is, crossing his arms over his chest. It may not concern me but I'm sure the King wouldn't want you harassing his personal guests."

The men shoot Ana a wary glance before Roy nudges Daniel's shoulder. "Come on Danny. We should probably head to the mess tent anyways."

Daniel shrugs his hand off and sneers at Alistair. "Whatever." He mutters, glancing at Ana. He smirks at her once more. "Just remember my preposition. If you change your mind, you know where to find me." Shooting Alistair one last glare, Daniel strides away with his companion in tow.

Sighing, Ana turns to thank her savior. Facing him, her eyes rise slightly in surprise as she looks over the younger warden standing before her. Not bad looking, at least. She muses, taking in the short dirty blonde hair and kind hazel eyes. He was a few inches taller than her and seemed to be close in age. "Thank you for that." She says politely, casting a glance in the direction they went as though they would rush back at any moment. Remembering how terrible she must look, she feels a twinge of embarrassment fall over her and quickly smooths down her disheveled hair before looking back at him.

Alistair offers a shy smile, his stomach knotting up nervously. Aside from being around women in the Royal army or the mages, he wasn't very good at talking with them one on one. "It's no problem." He says with more confidence than he feels. "You seemed like you needed some help."

She nods. "So, are all Grey Wardens as lecherous as that one?" She asks, motioning off toward where they left. "It'd be nice to have a bit of a heads up this time."

"Not that I'm aware." He chuckles with a shrug. "That's one good thing about the blight at least; it brings people together."

Ana's brows knit together. So you're Alistair? You're a bit… stranger than I was expecting."

A blush creeps across his cheeks. "You're not the first woman to tell me that, honestly." He says with a self-conscious chuckle.

"Oh?" She pauses, her brows furrowing. "Did Duncan send you to find me?"

"Duncan?" He asks, raising a brow. "I was unaware that he returned." He pauses for a moment. "How do you know him? Are you another mage?"

She crosses her arms over her chest. "If I was a mage, wouldn't I have a templar hovering nearby? I doubt they'd allow a mage to just wander aimlessly around camp"

He glances around them as though checking before grinning. "You have a point there. Yes, I'm Alistair. And you are?"

For a brief moment, Ana thought about if it would be wise to reveal her family name before thinking against it. "Ana. I'm Duncan's newest recruit."

"Oh!" He breathes, his brows shooting up in surprise. Clearing his throat, he straightens to try to seem more authoritative. "As the junior member of the order, I'll be accompanying you when you prepare for the Joining."

"Ah yes… the Joining." Ana snorts, putting joining in air quotes. "Duncan mentioned that. Didn't go into much detail about it though."

"You'll learn more about it when the time draws closer." He smiles. She eyes him for a moment, noting the distant look in his eyes like she seen in Duncan's when he spoke of the secretive ritual. She wanted to probe him for more details about it but decided that perhaps it would be best to wait a little before picking his brain. For now, she was curious as to his surprise.

"You seemed surprised about me being a recruit." She says. "Why is that? Is it unheard of for a young woman to join the order or something?"

He shrugs. "Kind of. There's never been many women in the Grey Wardens." He frowns. "I wonder why that is…"

Ana's lips curve up into an amused smirk. "That is strange. I bet many men, yourself included, wished there were more women in your order."

He shrugs again. "Would that be so terrible?" He sees her amused expression. "Not that I'm some drooling lecher or anything…" He watches her lips curl upwards into a smirk and quickly averts his gaze as the heat rises to his cheeks. "Maker… please stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?" She chuckles. "I simply asked a question and got the answer I was expecting." She shrugs. "Besides, I bet the reason is fairly simple. We're far too smart to join."

"True…" He drawls, meeting her gaze with a teasing grin. "But if you're here, what does that make you?"

Her smug grin instantly evaporates and is replaced with a hostile sneer. "What would you know, fool?" She spits. "Thank you again for helping me, now piss off. I'll find Duncan later when it's time for the damn ritual." Pushing past him, she stomps away as Alistair mentally scorns himself.

"Ana, wait!" He frowns. "I didn't—"

"That's Lady Ana to you." She snaps, not stopping. "Leave me alone."

"Maker…" He mutters to himself as he watches her leave. "Handled that with your typical deft brilliance, Alistair."


	15. The Hawke Collision

Anger bubbles up inside Ana as she leaves Alistair. She knows that Duncan walked him to guide her around but how could she do that when he just called her an idiot? Wishing Much was around for comfort and protection, Ana strode with determined strides toward the sound of barks in the distance. Near a gate being guarded by a man accompanied by his own war hound, Ana finds the pens that Daniel had spoken of. Housed in small wooden palisade pens, Ana can just barely make out the muscled war dogs common in her homeland. She jogs over, walking along the side in search of Much, growing increasingly anxious as she sees no sign of him.

"Careful, Miss." A rough looking man with grey streaked black hair says from nearby. "Those aren't puppies in those pens."

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she turns to look at him. "Have you seen a tall, red-haired man accompanied by a light brown mabari?" She asks. "He should have arrived recently."

The man shakes his head before spitting off to the side. "Can't say I have." He motions toward the pens with his chin. "These hounds belong to the king and the ash warriors."

"Ash warriors?"

"Aye." He nods, motioning to a stern looking man not far from them. "Lad over there can tell you more. I have to get these hounds ready for the King's next excursion into the Wilds." He frowns, shaking his head. "It would be best if some weren't sick. A couple of them swallowed some darkspawn blood. Nasty sickness."

Frowning, Ana looks over to one of the pens where a hound is lying down, whimpering softly. Darkspawn did this? Can this truly be a blight? "Surely there's some way to cure it." She says hopefully, turning to the man. "Will you be able to save a hound that has swallowed darkspawn blood?"

The man shrugs. "There's a flower found out in the Wilds here. When Duncan takes his recruits out later, I'll probably see if one of them can keep an eye out."

"He's sending them into the Korcari Wilds?" She asks, her eyes widening. "Is that what the Joining is?"

The man shrugs again. "I know nothing about a Joining, Miss. I simply just look after the hounds. If you have any questions about it, talk to Duncan. He's the Commander of the Wardens and I heard he just returned today—tall Rivaini man; Can't miss him."

Ana nods absently. "Right… Thanks." She turns away as the man returns his attention to the hounds before approaching a man leaning up against a column. He stands with his arms crossed over his chest with his hood pulled down over his eyes. Had it not been for the Warden insignia on the man's breastplate, which is similar to Duncan's, she would have mistaken him for a common cutpurse. Actually, it was very possible that that was what he was before he joined the wardens. She remembered hearing of how wardens had saved a few men from the executioners block a few times. Perhaps this man was one of them?

As she approaches him, she pauses waiting for him to move his head but he remains still. Raising her chin slightly, she clears her throat. "Excuse me?" His head tilts slightly but, with his face covered, she was unsure if he was looking at her or not. "Do you speak?" She asks impatiently. He nods and she rolls her eyes with an irritated sigh. "Do you know where General Loghain is? I need to speak with him, immediately."

The man nods once more and points back the way she came but says nothing. She eyes him with distaste before glancing over at the two giant tents before sighing. "Okay then…" She mutters, turning away from him. "That was not as helpful as I was hoping for." Walking off in an annoyed huff towards the tents.

As she keeps her gaze focused on her destination up ahead, she remains oblivious to the man walking full speed toward her.

"Try not to spill it this time, Carver!" His older brother calls out to him as he watches him with an amused glance, casually leaning against a column. "And don't spit in it either! I'll know!"

"You didn't last time." Carver mutters as he turns to face forward. His brother calls to him but he barely hears it, and waves it off. He turns his head. "Yeah, I heard you the first time, Na—" He begins to call before he runs into somebody. They topple to the ground and he quickly scrambles to his feet as his brother jogs over to them.

"Maker's Breath!" Carver mutters as he offers his hand to them. Ana glares up at him and his brows raise in surprise.

Noticing a few eyes watching them from nearby, heat rises to her cheeks as she slaps his hand away. "Watch where you're going!" She fumes before accepting the other man's hand as he approaches.

"Forgive my brother." He says, as he helps her to her feet once more. "He's a bit of a klutz."

"I didn't mean to." Carver sulks. "I was distracted by you yelling something to me."

"I was yelling for you to watch out because you were about to run into somebody."

"Apparently he didn't get the memo." Ana mutters, dusting herself off as best she can.

Carver's cheeks redden before he meets her gaze. "I'm so sorry… had I known—"

Nudging Carver aside slightly, the other man flashes Ana a roguish smile. "I'm Nate, by the way; Nate Hawke. As you've just met, this is my tit of a younger brother, Carver. If I may ask your name, my lady?"

Carver rolls his eyes as he crosses his arms over his chest with a pout. Still feeling gazes around them, she self-consciously smooths down her hair and tunic. "Ana." She mutters, looking up at him with an unimpressed glance. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go speak with the General."

Carver's eyes widen. "I promise you that our collision was an accident; honest! Please don't tell the General—" He begins to plead before Nate elbows his hard in the side. Carver glares at him as Nate gives him a look that tells him to shut up before smiling at Ana once more. "Again, forgive him. He's always been one to jump to conclusions." Placing a hand on his younger brother's shoulder, he bows his head slightly. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Ana. We apologize for disturbing you. Enjoy your meeting and we'll probably see you around."

Ana eyes him suspiciously before nodding. "Yeah…maybe." And with that, he shoves his brother away and they walk off in the opposite direction. She waits for a moment as she looks after them, half expecting them to come back but they continue on their way without even a look back. Shrugging, she continues on.


	16. Why Does Nobody Listen To Me?

Quickly walking away from the men in hopes of not getting knocked down again, Ana hightails it back towards the royal tents. She stops a few feet away, looking between them as she tries to determine which is which given that both tents bear the King's insignia. Taking notice of her, one of the guard's near the flaps of the tent nearest the way she came in eyes her suspiciously. "Can I help you?" he asks her gruffly.

Turning to face him, she raises her chin. "Is this the General's tent?" She asks, motioning to the tent behind him.

"That depends." He says, crossing his arms over his chest. He leers at her "What business do you have with the Teyrn?"

"That is private information." Ana sneers. "I have some matters to discuss with him. Can you please go fetch him?"

"I'm not some hound you can tell to do things." He snorts. "Besides, he's busy."

"I still would like an audience with him. It's important."

He eyes her warily as though just her presence annoys him. "You have a message or something for him?"

"I do." She nods. "Now may I?"

With a heavy sigh, his arms drop down to his sides. "Very well. One moment." He disappears through the flaps as Ana glances around anxiously. Finally, after a few minutes, the man returns and holds the flap open and motions for her to go. "Go on in. He's waiting."

Ducking inside, she walks through to where the it opens up to a larger area. A sturdy cot and various other amenities line one side of the massive area while the other holds an armor stand, a desk piled with various pieces of parchments and scrolls, no doubt scout reports and the like. Off the center of the room, a large man in bulky plate armor stands hunched over a large map stretched out over a big war table. "What is it?" The man grunts, not looking up. "The King is getting impatient and we need—"

"You're Teyrn Loghain, correct?" Ana cuts him off. She remembers something from her lessons about the Teyrn and how he and Maric fought the Orlesians but everything she had heard about him seemed off. By the way Aldous spoke of Loghain, she imagined somebody like Duncan who rugged looking but still had a kind gaze and friendly manner about him. The man before her seemed rugged alright but she didn't expect the icy blue stare that looked up at her, or rather through her. This was clearly a man who took no nonsense and definitely looks like somebody who has killed men before.

"I am." He says, straightening, his eyes looking her over with a solemn expression, as though gauging how trustworthy her information may be. "I was told you have a message."

Ana's cheeks pinken slightly but she raises her chin slightly. "I do, somewhat. I'm Analise Cousland, daughter of the Teyrn of Highever, Bryce Cousland." She begins.

"Ah, you're Duncan's new recruit then." He says with a dismissive wave. "I'm sorry to hear of your father and mother's passing. Your father was a good man."

Ana feels the tears prickle the back of her eyes but manages to hold them back as she nods. "Thank you. Since you know of my recruitment, I imagine Duncan spoke to you of Howe's betrayal?"

"He informed the King and I as soon as he arrived." He nods. "I should inform you that we have yet to see Fergus Cousland or his army. There's a possibility that he was delayed." Seeing the disappointment written on her face, he averts his gaze. "If and when he arrives, I will be sure to have somebody notify you." He says quickly, looking back down at his map. "Now, if you'll excuse me…"

Realizing she was just dismissed, her brows furrow before she slowly walks back through the flap, past the guard. He looks at her but says nothing as she walks past, barely aware of anything but the grief and worry that claws at her. What if Howe's men got to him? Could I really be the last Cousland? Her lip trembles as she lowers herself down on a piece of toppled column tucked away behind the tents and places her face in her hands.

After sobbing for a good twenty minutes or so, she wipes her face and takes a couple deep breaths to calm herself before rising. Perhaps, it would take a day or two for Fergus or Ser Gilmore and Much to arrive. In the meantime, Duncan can introduce her to the other new recruits and maybe she can find out more about this mysterious ritual that was supposed to take place.

With her chin raised, she marches toward the large tent that is marked with the Warden insignia. Striding past the guard who leans against his pike, fast asleep, Ana pushes open the flap and heads inside. "Duncan, I would like—" She begins to say before freezing in place as the men inside stop their talking to look at her. Her face burns as she looks down. "My apologies…" She says, inching back towards the ground. "I didn't know you were busy…"

"That's all right, Ana." Duncan says patiently. "However, if you could wait outside—"

"Nonsense!" Ana glances up as the young man standing beside Duncan smiles at her. He motions her forward. "Come closer, my dear."

Hesitantly, she glances at Duncan who sighs and nods his approval. "Ana, as I'm sure you're aware, this is King Cailan."

As she approaches them, Ana dips into a low curtsy before Cailan grabs her hand and kisses it with a grin. "You know who I am but whom might you be, my dear?"

"I'm Ana Cousland, your majesty." She says, bowing her head.

"Ah! You must be Duncan's newest recruit then." He says before his smile falls. "He informed us of what has happened in Highever. I am very sorry for your loss."

The tears threaten to fall as she nods. "Thank you, your majesty."

For a long moment, nobody spoke as Cailan's eyes traveled down to her lips before flicking down to the tops of her breasts, visible through the small opening of her tunic. He clears his throat and looks her in the eye once more with a grin. "Well then, it seems you have something urgent to speak with Duncan about..." Ana begins to correct him and apologize but he raises a hand to stop her. "Don't worry. I will have plenty of time later for both Loghain and Duncan to bore me with battle tactics and reports." He chuckles and raises her hand to his lips once more. "Until next time, my lady." He kisses her hand once more, his lips lingering a few seconds longer before he releases her and exits the tent with his small entourage in tow. Once the King is gone, Ana turns to Duncan.

"Maker… I am so sorry. I didn't know—"

"It's alright." Duncan says holding up his hand. "Next time, I would appreciate if you would wait until my guard tells you it's okay." He says, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Your guard was asleep." She argues, raising her chin. "It's a good thing it was only me and not an enemy! Both you and the king could have been in danger. You should probably have him whipped."

Leaning against the table, he shakes his head. "Now, now…That's not necessary." He raises a brow. "Had your father ever had a person whipped? I've only ever heard of his generosity and kindness toward everybody in his employ."

He watches as her jaw clenches slightly. "No, he never did…" She mutters before straightening. "But maybe if he had not so kind all the time, perhaps he and everybody else would still be alive." Her voice cracks with emotion, her lower lip trembling as she averts her gaze. "His kindness was his downfall in the end…"

Duncan frowns, resisting the urge to pull her into an embrace. Instead, he places a firm hand on her shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. She looks up at him, the tears making her bright blue eyes twinkle in the light of one of the nearby candelabras. "Kindness is not a weakness that caused your father's death, Ana. Howe's jealousy and envy were his weakness which drove him to destroy everything his loyal friends did for him." He pauses, his eyes staring deeply into hers. "I know it may not seem so right now, but just remember that being kind to those around you, regardless of race, class or gender is a strength that only the greatest people possess. Your mother and father were both great people and it is your duty to uphold their memory by following in their footsteps."

Tears brim her eyes. "That's what I'm afraid of. I'm afraid that if I follow their example, I will end up like them— slaughtered by those that I care for and see as my friends." Shrugging his hand away, she shakes her head. "I know my place in the world and others should too. Had my father treated Howe as the vile, ambitious snake that he is, he would not have had the gall to betray him."

Duncan sighs and opens his mouth to argue but closes it as he figured that this wasn't the time to lecture her. Right now, she's so stuck in her grief that there was little chance of changing her mind. For now, he'll let her grieve and, when she has had time to come to terms with her loss, he'll speak with her.

Clearing his throat, he changes the subject. "I imagine that you stormed in here to speak with me about something?"

Wiping her eyes, she nods. "I spoke with Teyrn Loghain about Fergus." She says, her eyes dropping down toward the Griffin on his breastplate. "He still has yet to arrive. By the sound of it, the Teyrn seems certain that he never will."

"The Teyrn is a very…" He pauses as he tries to think of how to put it politely. Noticing his young recruit watching him expectantly, he sighs. "He's a cynic." He says finally. "He believes that by assuming the worst is true, it'll be a relief when things pan out."

"It'll also be less of a blow." Ana finishes, receiving a nod. "At least then you don't get your hopes up for nothing." As I already have.

"If your brother is not here yet, there is always a chance that the weather may have diverted his travels." Duncan offers. "Either that or, with such a large number of people, they may have taken a longer route. Like I said before, we will wait a couple days, if Fergus and Ser Gilmore don't arrive by Firesday, we will know what has become of them."

A lump begins to form in her throat as she turns away. The very thought of losing her brother, Rory and Much was almost too much to bear. "Then, I suppose we should go ahead and complete the task you mentioned on the bridge." She turns to him. "You said you had a special task for the other recruits and I to do. Is it the Joining?"

His brows furrow slightly. "It's a part of it, yes." He says, choosing his words carefully. "It is to retrieve something from the Korcari Wilds." He watches the worry flare up in her eyes. She has no fighting ability. Until we know that she is not the last surviving Cousland, I can't have her do this task or participate in the joining in case she's killed. "Have you met your fellow recruits and Alistair yet?" He asks.

"I've met Alistair so far." She says, clenching her fits at her sides as she remembers his little comment about her intelligence. "I wasn't sure what the others looked like and didn't want to make a fool of myself by aimlessly wandering around, asking each person I encountered if they were recruits. Nor did I want to get knocked over or hit on by any other men.

He frowns. "I'm surprised Alistair isn't still with you. He would have helped you figure out where everything is and possibly taken you to the mess tent to get some food." He shrugs. "It may not be the quality you've grown accustomed to at the castle but it's good enough to get you through the day." He straightens up once more and strides over toward the flap which Ana entered and pulls it aside. "Come. While we wait for news or the arrival of your loved ones, you should at least get to know your fellow recruits."

The guard is startled awake as Ana and Duncan stride past him and he quickly straightens, his eyes flicking around nervously to see if anybody noticed. Ana follows closely behind the Warden-Commander, pausing only for a moment as he instructs a man leaning against a nearby pillar to find Alistair and have him round up the recruits have him meet them in an enclosed part of the ruins, east of the training areas. Before long, they're joined by Alistair and two other men. One of the men stands with his head held high and his broad shoulders back while Ana notices as the other, whom is shorter and has a rogue-ish look to him with his elongated rat-like face. Ratface glances around them furtively as though he expects them to be ambushed here in camp. His beady looking eyes pass over Ana making her grimace. She feels Alistair's gaze shift to her as well and keeps her eyes averted as she once more feels her rage from earlier simmering inside her.

"Good, I'm glad you're all here." Duncan says with a half-smile. Shifting toward Ana, he motions to the men. "You've already met Alistair."

Chancing a glance at the young warden, he offers her a shy smile which falls as she glares at him. "I have." She says coolly, her gaze shifting toward the proud, broad shouldered man beside him.

"These two men are the fellow recruits who will be taking the Joining with you." Duncan begins. He motions toward the proud man. "This is Ser Jory—"

Ana's brows raise. "Ser?" She asks. "You're a knight?"

"I was." He nods. "I once served Arl Eamon in Redcliffe. However, after meeting my beautiful wife in Highever, I sent word to the Arl to be released from my vows so I could leave Redcliffe."

"Ah, yes. You must be the man who won the tournament, correct?"

Jory's brows jump up. "Yes. How did you—"

"I'm also from Highever." Ana smiles. "I was at that tournament." Hidden away with Ser Gilmore. "I remember hearing the name Jory being announced. It's an honor to meet a champion."

"Thank you." He says, returning her smile. "It was a proud day. I was recruited by Duncan a few months after I won."

Clearing his throat, Duncan motions toward the other man. "And this is Daveth."

Ana's bright blue gaze shifts to meet the darkened eyes of the rat-like man. "And what about you? Where are you from? Were you a farmer of some sort?"

Daveth's lips curl upwards into a smirk. "Not exactly." He says, his voice sharp and raspy. "I doubt you've ever heard of me, sweetheart."

Shooting a questioning glance at Duncan, he sighs. "He's a cutpurse from Denerim." He says evenly. "He was sentenced to hang but I managed to use the right of conscription to save his life and recruit him to the Grey Wardens."

She looks down her nose at him and he grins. Sensing the tension growing, Jory clears his throat. "And you are, Miss?"

"This is Ana." Duncan quickly answers. "She's a new recruit, just like you two."

Jory's brows snap up once more. "She is?" He asks, his eyes quickly looking her over. "Forgive me, Miss, but I didn't know that women were permitted to be recruited. No offense."

"That's what I pointed out as well." Alistair nods, receiving another glare from Ana and quickly dropping his gaze.

"She's great and all but when do we go through this secretive Joining?" Daveth asks. "Since hearing about it, I've tried to ask around about what it is but nobody will speak of it."

All eyes turn to Duncan who doesn't even flinch at this sudden question. His expression remains neutral. "Patience, Daveth. We're waiting a couple days for another recruit to arrive. Until then, the three of you may get better acquainted. When it's time for your Joining, we will let you know."

"Can you at least give us a basic idea of what's involved?" Jory frowns. "Perhaps we can work on preparing ourselves in the days to come."

Duncan gravely shakes his head. "I cannot disclose any details at this time. I'm sorry."

"This is bullshit." Daveth sneers. Turning on his heel, he stomps off in a huff leaving the others to watch him. With an exasperated sigh, Duncan turns his attention to the former knight. "Ser Jory, I'm assuming you have already have your tent set up and have found your way to the mess tent? If not, Alistair can show you and Ana both—"

"I've only just finished setting up my tent when I was summoned." Jory nods. "I've been to the mess tent once already."

Nodding, Duncan's gaze shifts to his junior Warden standing next to him. "In that case, Alistair, if you could escort Ana—"

"Actually, I'll go with Jory." Ana pipes up making both Duncan and Jory's brows jump up in surprise. "He is my fellow recruit afterall." Duncan notices the blush sweep over Alistair's cheeks and frowns.

"Are you sure? Alistair has been here longer and would be ideal to give you a tour of the camp."

"I'm sure." She looks at Jory with a half-smile. "Besides, I'd like a chance to speak with the champion of Highever."

Duncan looks between his junior Warden and his pretty new recruit before shaking his head. "No. Alistair, escort Ana so she can get a warm meal for tonight. In the meantime, Ser Jory can come with me. We have some things to discuss."

Ana's smile falls as she turns to Duncan. "But Duncan—" She begins to complain before she's quieted by him raising a hand.

"No arguing, Ana." He says calmly, turning to Alistair once more. "Once she has eaten and you've shown her around a little, you may bring her to my tent to go over sleeping arrangements. Understood?"

Dejected, Alistair sighs. "I'd rather deal with a rabid mabari, but okay." He mutters under his breath. Ana prepares to try arguing once more but Duncan immediately leads Jory away, leaving the two alone. Crossing her arms over her chest she pouts as she stares daggers at Duncan's back for leaving her before turning her disgusted expression toward Alistair. "Great." She mutters. "Of all the Grey Wardens in camp, I'm stuck with the bumbling idiot." Alistair's blush deepens.


	17. Bad Decisions

An awkward and tense silence permeates between them as Alistair leads Ana to a half-crumbling building at the far end of camp. The light breeze blowing through the ruins and wafts the smell of warm food past them and Ana feels her stomach knot up in response. As they approach the structure, she notices the line and groans. "A line at this hour?" She complains making her companion roll his eyes.

"Many of these people may be new to Ostagar as you are." He says tightly, his own stomach rumbling with expectation. "It shouldn't be too long. Look." She turns to look as he points past her as the line moves forward a little. "It's already moving."

"Yeah, slowly." She complains. Crossing her arms over her chest, she pouts as she watches the line. "This better be some of the best food I've ever tasted."

Sighing, Alistair turns away from her so she can't see him roll his eyes. Finally, when it's their turn, Alistair grabs a bowl and tries to hand her one but she ignores him.

"Excuse me." She says sweetly to one of the men ladling out stew to the soldier ahead of her. Wiping his nose on his sleeve, he looks up at her with his watery, bloodshot eyes and tries to resist the urge to scrunch up her nose. "I'll take roasted pigeon or duck if you have it."

The unkempt woman standing beside him looks over at her, her eyes moving looking her up and down before snorting derisively. Ana barely hears her mutter something under her breath which is something along the lines of "Wrong tent, Princess."

Ana pointedly ignores her and waits a moment as the main watches her with a bored expression before sighing. "All we have is Mabari stew."

Ana wrinkles her nose as her eyes flick toward the half empty cauldron before him. "What?"

"I know it sounds gruesome but it's not made of mabaris." Alistair reassures from beside her. "It's just all types of meat thrown into a stew like how mabari eat all types of meat. It's actually quite tasty once you get used to it."

She doesn't even look at him. Instead looks at the man with a horrified expression. "Is this what you feed the king?" She says crudely.

"Of course not!" The woman exclaims. "The king has his own private cooks."

"Listen, sweetheart." The watery-eyed man interrupts. "Are you going to have the stew or not? If not, move along so that the people behind you can eat."

Glancing behind Alistair, Ana sees the tired and annoyed people standing patiently in line. Two of the men waved her on impatiently while a few others simply glower at her.

"Hurry up, girl." The man urges. Ana's eyes once more glance at the pot with a grimace before Alistair sighs and thrusts his bowl out ahead her.

"Yes, she'll take some stew." He says quickly, his cheeks pinkening. "We both will… please."

"As you wish, Warden." The man says, ladling up some stew and plopping it in Ana's bowl then in Alistair's before motioning them on. Handing the bowl to Ana, Alistair urges her on, trying to not touch her in the process for fear of being yelled at again.

Once in front of the woman, she plops a hunk of dark bread in the bowl and some of the stew sprays Ana who flinches as it lands on the small opening of her shirt and her chest. She glares at the woman who only smirks before waving her on.

With a muttered apology to the woman, Alistair motions for Ana to follow him as he takes a seat the one of the few vacant tables and waits as Ana sits down across from him. Setting her stew down, she glances down at the opening of her shirt. "Great." She mutters.

Shoveling a spoonful of stew in his mouth, he pauses as he looks up as Ana opens up the top of her shirt and wipes the spilled stew off the tops of her breasts. Watching, Alistair swallows and quickly averts his eyes at his own stew.

"She did that on purpose." Ana murmurs, trying in vain to wipe the stew stain now on the fabric around the opening. "I was just simply asking a question." She looks up to see Alistair quietly eating his stew and her brows draw together. "Hello?" She snips. "Are you listening to me?"

"You insulted the food." He says, not looking up. "Perhaps try to be nicer next time. You know what they say about catching flies."

"Nicer?" She hisses. "I was nice! I simply asked if this was the food the king ate and what do I get? Stew splattered on me! Look!"

Subtly shifting under the table from his growing arousal from his brief glance, he shrugs. "I seen. After the Joining, you'll be issued a new uniform to replace your current clothes."

Ana's eyes narrow at him. "Why won't you look at me, Alistair? Afraid I'll bewitch you with my beauty or something?" She sneers.

Looking up, he keeps his eyes trained on her face and could feel the blush radiating up from his collar as he resisted the urge to look down once more at the tops of her breasts showing in the opening of her shirt. "You should eat. It's going to be a long couple days while we're waiting for that other recruit."

The pang of grief wells up in her stomach and she looks away, nodding. "Yes." She says, quietly as she pushes around the grey-ish slop in her bowl. "Hopefully he comes soon."

"So, it's a man." Alistair says, curiously watching her thoughtful expression. "Do you know him? Is he from Highever as well?"

She looks at him and her gaze hardens. "You ask a lot of questions." She snips. "Perhaps you should ask Duncan if you want more details."

A wave of emotions wash over her and she feels the tears begin to well up as she abruptly rises from her seat. She feels her stomach rumble and snatches up the bread from her stew as she looks down her nose at a confused looking Alistair. "I need some air." She mutters before storming off.

His brows furrow as he watches her storm out of the mess tent. "What did I say?"

* * *

The sky is a dusky pink, purple and blue and the sun hangs low and partially hidden by the dark purple Southron Hills when Alistair finally finds his charge. Ana sits on the edge of an old walkway at the far edge of camp, her legs dangling off the cliff overhanging above the forest filled valley below. She leans next to pillar to where she had been weeping for the past couple hours over everything that has happened recently.

"Don't jump!" Alistair calls out jokingly, only to receive an annoyed look. His smile falls as he comes to a halt a few feet away. He awkwardly clears his throat. "I've been looking for you."

"Yeah? Well, you found me." She mutters, turning to look back at the foggy treetops below. "Now you can go away."

He sighs. "I would love to let you sit here all night looking out at trees." He says. "It would help the lookouts. However, if you can recall, when Duncan sent us to the mess tent, he stated that I was to show you around a little then return you to his tent to discuss sleeping arrangements. Seeing as it's almost dark, now would be a good time to figure out where you're sleeping."

As much as she wanted to argue, he had a point. She was tired from the day's journey and from crying the past few hours. Sleep was a welcome distraction. "Fine." She mutters, carefully standing up. She turns away from him and hugs the pillar for support to both help her off the edge and to stealthily her wipe her tears away with her sleeve.

They walk in an awkward silence back toward the bulk of camp, passing patrolling soldiers to a campfire surrounded by men in the famous grey and blue tunics of the Grey Wardens lounged about, nursing their bottles of conscription wine. As they approach the group, one of the younger wardens glances over with a smirk. "What do you have there, Alistair?" He teases. "A girl? About time!" Those nearby glance over and chuckle while Alistair's face reddens.

"Settle down. I'm just bringing her to the Warden-commander." Alistair starts to protest before being cut off.

"Oh, so she's the Commander's?" The man smirks, his eyes moving over Ana's form in the light of the fire and licking his lips. "He has good tastes. She looks like—"

Hearing the others mention him, Duncan – who had just been discussing the newest recruits with one of the other Senior wardens— turns to look at the blushing Alistair and an annoyed looking Ana. Ana glares at the man and is about to say something when Duncan quickly intercedes.

"That's enough." He gently chides the others before turning to look at his youngest warden and new recruit. "There you two are." He says, approaching them. The warden who was just teasing Alistair calls out to the Commander to congratulate him on his choice in bedmate only to receive a look that instantly silences him which makes his fellows snicker. Duncan turns his gaze back to Alistair. "Thank you, Alistair. You may turn in for the night, if you wish. Ana will be in my care."

Alistair bows his head before offering a small, friendly smile to Ana. "Good night, Ana. I'll most likely see you tomorrow at the mess tent."

His smile falls as she says nothing. She doesn't even look his way until she notices Duncan raising a brow at her. Sighing, she turns to him. "Yes. Goodnight."

Alistair walks dejectedly away to the campfire as Duncan motions for her to follow. Shifting her ill-fitting corset, she curses under her breath.

"Did something happen between you two?" Duncan asks, referring to the coldness between Alistair and her. She shrugs.

"I just don't see why he of all wardens was sent to help me." She says. "He's terrible at making conversation and he's rude."

Duncan chuckles. "Rude?"

She pauses so does he. "He implied that I'm an idiot and then told me I should be nicer to people after simply asking a question to the servers in the mess tent."

Duncan's brows shoot upward. "We're still talking about Alistair?"

She crosses her arms over her chest with a scowl. "Yes. Do you not believe me?"

He shakes his head as he tries to think of what could make the shy Alistair say such a thing. While asking somebody like Ana to be nicer to people sounds like him, he has never heard him insult a woman, of all people, outright. The poor boy is a good swordsman and takes his Warden duties seriously yet he does have a tendency to speak without thinking. Motioning for her to once more follow him, he waits to speak until they reach his tent. Pausing to open the flap for her, he follows her in and pauses near the war table at the far end. "If you don't mind, My Lady," Duncan begins. "Tell me about what led up to Alistair insulting your intelligence."

Ana, who was glancing down at the map still rolled out on the table, looks up at him. "He was surprised when I told him I was one of your new recruits." She begins. She precedes to tell him what had happened up until his ill-advised comment then waits hotly for his response.

"I see…" He says, thoughtfully stroking his trimmed beard. His eyes meet hers. "I can see why you would be upset."

"I still am!" She exclaims, crossing her arms over her chest. "You should punish him. I don't know how punishment runs in the Wardens but he should learn his place. Perhaps being whipped—"

Duncan shakes his head. "I know Alistair and, while what he said was hurtful, I don't think he said it on purpose. He simply wasn't thinking before he spoke—"

"That's it?" Ana seethes. "You're just going to let him go?"

Duncan sighs. "I will speak with him—"

"Speaking won't do anything!" She exclaims. "Actions speak louder than words." Turning away from him, she feels her lower lip tremble before taking a deep breath. She turns back around. "Regardless, I was brought back to discuss sleeping arrangements, not Alistair." She says, raising her chin. "Where is my tent and how many guards will be guarding me?"

His brows furrow. "I'm sorry, Ana, but there is no tent or guards for you."

Mimicking his confused expression, she crosses her arms over her chest. "I don't understand. Where will I be sleeping then?"

His expression softens as he motions to the sleeping area behind him. "You'll be sleeping in here with me."

Immediately, she steps back as though hit. "Excuse me?" She asks. "I don't care if you're the Warden-Commander, I am not sleeping with you."

Patiently, he shakes his head. "Fear not, My Lady. I did not mean together. I will be sleeping in my bed and you will be sleeping on a cot of your own nearby."

He motions behind him to the where his bed is set up and, tucked away behind a dresser and writing desk, she sees the pathetic looking cot and wrinkles her nose. "Yeah, no thank you." She says. "I prefer a bed. Perhaps I could sleep in yours and you—"

"Ana." Duncan interrupts. "I am the Warden-Commander. You are a recruit. You do not get to pick where you sleep or on what; I do."

"Yes, but—"

"No buts." He says, firmly. "This is just until you go through your Joining. After that, recruits are then assigned to a bunk in the Warden dormitory tent where you will sleep alongside your fellow Wardens. Normally, I wouldn't have a new recruit sleep in my tent but, given your circumstances, I'm making an exception. In here, I will be able to keep you safe for the meantime."

"Like from the men around the campfire?" She asks.

He hesitantly nods. "As one of the few women in our order here, it is paramount that we ensure your safety, especially since you do not possess any fighting skills. If need be, I will teach you a few things for self-defense in the coming days."

"And what Ser Gilmore?" She asks. "When he arrives, where will he sleep?"

Duncan watches her for a moment. Of course she would rather sleep in the arms of her lover than in her old Commander's tent. Perhaps even celebrate their reunion and rekindle their union, which no longer needs to be a secret. "That will be decided upon his arrival and how late it is."

Turning from her, he strides over to the dresser and shuffles the contents around, muttering under his breath. Ana shifts uneasily as she glances around. When Duncan returns to her, he holds out something to her. "Here. After all the riding we did to get here, I'm sure you want to clean up and change. You may use one of my nightshirts to change into. There is an ewer of water I had brought in earlier along with a basin" He motions over toward the small table between the dresser and writing table. "You can wash and change in here. In the meantime, I will ensure my guards keep people away and I will be away dealing with some Warden business to give you some privacy."

Walking back towards the flaps of his tent, he pauses as he hears her say his name.

"Thank you again, Duncan." She says. "I know it may not seem like it but I am grateful for all you've done for me. Had it not been for you and Ser Gilmore, I would have been dead like my family."

He smiles even though he's turned away and she can't see it. "You're very welcome, My Lady. Goodnight Ana." Ana says goodnight and then he disappears through the flap.


	18. Hawke's Secret

Waking to find Duncan's bed empty, Ana sits up in her cot. Regardless of being the only one in the slowly brightening tent, she self-consciously pulls the thin blanket up around her chest and looks around her. Outside the tent, she can already hear people going about their business. She could even hear Duncan's guards quietly speaking with one another just outside the tent flaps.

Slipping off her cot, she quickly strips off Duncan's sleep shirt and redresses in her clothes from before. Exiting the tent, she winces as the early morning sun glints off a passing templar's armor and raises her eyes to shield herself. Turning from the blinding light, she turns to look at one of the guards standing watch. "Excuse me"

He turns and looks at her through the slit in his helmet. "Yes Miss?"

"Where has the Warden-Commander gone?"

"He's in the training yard with the other Wardens, Miss." The younger of the two guards says from behind her. "He should be back within an hour or two."

"I see…" She says before pausing. "Did he speak of anything I was supposed to do?"

They exchange a glance before the first one shakes his head. "Not that I'm aware of. Perhaps you could head down to the mess tent. I believe they're still serving breakfast to the late morning patrol."

Nodding, she raises her chin. "When Duncan returns, inform him that I'll be near the entry way of the camp if he needs me."

They nod and Ana heads out toward the mess tent as they had suggested. As she gets closer, she can smell the bacon, eggs and fresh bread and feels her stomach grumble with expectation.

When she arrives, a long line of soldiers in royal army livery, a couple Grey Wardens and lay sisters talk amongst themselves as they await their turn. Ana groans and comes to the back of the line. Crossing her arms over her chest, she checks every few seconds for any progress and groans each time, receiving looks from the others ahead of her. Impatient, she taps one of the lay sisters on the shoulder. Their conversation stops as the woman turns around.

"Yes, my child?" She asks.

"Forgive me, sister." Ana smiles sweetly. "I'm really hungry and I'm in a bit of a rush…"

"The line is moving up." The other sister says, looking Ana over. "You'll just need to wait. We're all hungry."

"Sister Augustine…" The older one chides.

"Yeah, I know but it's going really slow." Ana interrupts. "I need to go ahead of you and –"

"No." Sister Augustine says, her brows creasing. "You can wait your turn just like the rest of us. Maker bless you."

Before Ana can interrupt again, both sisters turn away from her.

Slowly but surely, the line dwindles until finally it's her turn.

"Finally!" She mutters, stepping up. The woman begins to ask her what she wants when she notices her. Her cheerful smile falls.

"Oh, it's you."

Ana steps back slightly as though hit. "Excuse you?" She hisses, putting her hands on her hips as she looks down her nose at the woman. "Do you have a problem with me?"

Receiving only an impatient look, Ana rolls her eyes. "Okay then. I'll have—"

Casually, the woman takes the stack of nearby plates away. "Actually, we're all out and no longer serving."

"Yes, you are. You were just serving people before me."

She shrugs. "We're all out."

"Listen, I'm a friend of the king." Ana snips. "I need to eat something so I can—"

"That's too bad." The woman sneers. "We're all out of whatever you want." Turning to look behind her she yells for the next person.

"Wait!" Ana frowns. "But I haven't eaten! I need food!"

The woman shrugs nonchalantly. "That's not my problem. Move along."

Once more, the woman calls for the next person as Ana's stomach once more gives a defiant grumble. Somebody behind her tells her to move along and she glances around at the unfriendly eyes looking at her from the nearby tables and line behind her. As she turns to look at the woman once more, she gets shoved forward by the person behind her and almost trips before shooting them a glare. Angry tears prickle her eyes as she steps off to the side before finally leaving.

Tears begin to blur her vision as she blindly flees the mess tent. Half-way across the courtyard, she hears the faint incantations of a preaching chantry mother in the distance. Pausing, she wipes her eyes and looks around until she sees the small raised platform erected behind a large Andraste statue surrounded by a small crowd of people gathered around the cleric. Ana slowly makes her way toward it, listening to the woman's words as they carry through the open area. "Through blinding mist, I climb. A sheer cliff, the summit shrouded in fog, the base endlessly far beneath my feet. The Maker is the rock to which I cling." She intones. "I cannot see the path. Perhaps there is only abyss. Trembling, I step forward, in darkness enveloped."

Ana comes to stand with the group of people who nod and mutter in agreement to the woman's words. She watches the woman as she inhales a shaky breath and listens. The woman's eyes flick to each person as she speaks until her eyes fall on the young woman standing near the edge of the group, her eyes red and her face full of sorrow. She smiles at her. "I am not alone." She says. "Even as I stumble on the path with my eyes closed, yet I see the light is here."

Long after the woman's sermon, when the others had slowly broken off to get back to their tasks, Ana walks around to look up at the carved statue of the prophetess herself. Even through centuries of weathering, the statue's face seems to be untouched as her kind gaze look down with her hand outstretched to those in need. Now Ana, betrayed and alone, kneels before her, closing her eyes as she clasping her hands before her and bows her head in prayer.

Maker, my enemies are abundant. Many are those who rise against me but my faith sustains me; I shall not fear the legion, should they set themselves against me.

Ana feels the tears once more welling up in her eyes.

Andraste, I beg you to bless and guard my loved ones from all harm to which my enemies will rain down them upon them and keep them safe so that they may all return to me.

"I've never seen you on your knees before."

With an irritated sigh, Ana opens her eyes to glare at Alistair standing beside her. The sun glints off his armor and the sheen of sweat coating his reddened face and neck. "What?" She hisses.

"I didn't mean it as a bad thing! It's good to see you on your knees before me. I mean, him." His face reddens. "I mean, praying…. before him— him being the Maker."

Ana rises back to her feet and brushes the dirt from her knees as an embarrassed Alistair continues to nervously ramble.

"I just mean, I've never seen you pray before while here." He says finally, muttering a curse under his breath.

"I've only been here for less than a day." She points out, turning away. He starts after her and reaches out to touch her arm before she spins around to face him. "What do you want?" She growls. "Don't you have some Warden thing to do?"

"I was just training with the others."

"So?" She sneers.

He reaches up to rub the back of his neck nervously. "So, I was going to head to the mess tent and… I was wondering if you would like to…join me."

Recalling the embarrassment from earlier, Ana shakes her head. "No, thank you." She lies. "I'm not hungry."

Alistair frowns as she turns and begins to walk away from him. "Oh. Okay…" He calls. "Maybe another time."

* * *

Time moves at a crawl as Ana inconspicuously stalks around the camp in search of something to eat. Her stomach growls in retaliation as she turns away from the succulent looking apple and dark bread left on the plate near the snoozing guard. He sits on a chest while a tranquil man works away at a table.

I am not a thief. She chides herself. I am the Teyrn's daughter. Surely, I'll be able to find some food somewhere.

She walks around, pretending as though she's on her way to do something when a sudden breeze wafts the smell of roasting meat past her and she feels her stomach knot up, her stomach begging for sustenance. "Maker's breath…" She groans, her eyes fluttering closed at the delicious scent. She pauses beside one of the pillars near the edge of the camp and leans against it. Her mouth waters as visions of platters of succulent roasted chicken and duck, seasoned to perfection with rosemary and thyme. She licks her lips as she envisions the knife sliding through it and the juices dripping down onto the platter…

"I wouldn't recommend doing that in public if I were you."

Ana's eyes snap open as her eyes dart toward where a bearded man with black hair leans up against a fence, his arms crossed over his broad chest and a smug grin on his handsome face. She feels her cheeks burn.

"I don't know what you're referring to." She says quickly, raising her chin. He imitates her, closing her eyes and licks his lips. Feeling the heat rise to her cheeks, she purses her lips in attempt to suppress the embarrassed giggle rising to her lips. He opens his eyes once more and smirks.

"By the way you're blushing, I think you know exactly what I'm talking about." Pushing away from the fence, he comes to stand before her. "Not that it wasn't incredibly enticing to watch. However, most of these men, including those in your order, have not seen their wives and girlfriends for some time now. With the mage women locked away for the most part and the only others being from the chantry or part of the royal army…"

Ana raises a hand. "I get what you mean." She states making him chuckle. As looks at him, her eyes narrowing as she tries to recall where she's seen him before. "Do we know each other?"

"In passing, My Lady." He says, receiving a confused look. The corners of his mouth curl upward. "My tit of a younger brother, Carver, ran into you when you were crossing the courtyard. I'm Nate. Nate Hawke."

"Ah yes." She replies, her face contorting as though she ate something foul. "I remember you two. What brings you here?" She motions around the mostly vacant area, dotted with crumbling archways, walls and what looks to have once been chapel of some sort. "It's a little creepy to have you scuttling around out here on your own."

"Scuttling, am I?' He snorts. "For your information, I was returning from my hunt in the forest across the bridge when I spotted you."

Hearing this, her eyes flick over to where he was stand where, sure enough, there sits a bow and two rabbits hanging out of a worn leather pack. Once more, the image of roasting meat fills her head making her mouth water as she can practically smell the delicious aroma. "You're allowed to hunt?" She asks, her eyes not leaving the pack.

"Of course. I usually prefer to kill and cook my own food when possible." He replies, watching Ana as she stares hungrily at his pack. He smiles. "Hey now. My eyes are of here."

Her eyes snap up at him. "Hm?"

He smiles. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes…" She says before quickly shaking her head. "I mean… No." She averts her gaze.

"I'm willing to share my game. Originally, I shot two in case Carver returned from his patrol early but, my luck, he'd just end up eating in the mess tent with the others." He shrugs. "I have enough and considering that you probably haven't eaten today…"

She looks at him, her eyes wide. "What? No! I have. I just—"

"Ana, I know you're being starved out."

Eyes narrowing, she glares at him. "How dare you make accusations! I—"

He cuts her off my holding up his hands in surrender. "Relax. That wasn't a judgement. It was just an observation." Her face changes to confusion and he continues. "I was there in the mess tent when you and that other Warden were getting food last night. Carver and I had just returned from a patrol with the others and we went there to eat. Today, I overheard the cooks talking about some stuck up princess demanding fancy food and how they no longer will serve you." She glares at him once more and he raises his hands ahead of him. "Again, not a judgement, just an observation."

Pursing her lips, she averts her gaze as the heat rises to her cheeks. "I should go…"

"Hey…" Nate frowns. "I didn't bring it up to embarrass you. I could use some company while I cook. You are free to join me if you wish and will get some juicy rabbit out of it." He smiles. "What do you say?"

Crossing her arms over her chest, she eyes the pack once more as she debates whether or not she should take him up on his offer. Hunger pangs cloud her thoughts as she feels her mother's dagger on her belt.

Leaning against the pillar beside her, Nate waits patiently and examines his nails.

Overwhelmed by her need of food, Ana then straightens and raises her chin. "Very well. I would like to dine with you, Ser Hawke."

"Glad to hear it, Princess!" He chuckles, straightening. "Also, you can just call me Nate."

Retrieving his pack and bow from the fence, he motions for her to follow. "Come on. Carver and I set up in one of the ruins not far from here."

She follows him as he weaves in and out of the crumbling structures moving further and further from the main area of the camp. Taking notice of decline of other people, she starts to feel a flicker of worry. "We're quite a ways from the main camp." She comments, glancing warily around at the deserted ruins around them, the crumbled pillars and remnants of structures almost resembling tombstones. Stopping near a semi-intact archway, she frowns as she looks back the way they came. "On second thought, I should probably return to my Commander's tent. I'm sure Duncan will be wonder where I am…"

Picking up on the underlying worry in her tone, Nate turns around to face her. "Well, we're here." He announces, motioning to the two tents flanking a small campfire. Removing his pack and quiver, he sets them near one of the logs beside the fire and retrieves his two rabbits. "If you're uncomfortable, you're more than welcome to head back to the main camp." Nate says, motioning back the way they come.

Reaching for her dagger under her cloak, she remains where she is. "Why are you so far from the main camp?" She asks. "And be honest with me."

Sitting down on the log, he places one of the rabbits on his lap and looks up at her. "Honestly? It wouldn't be a good idea for me to be so close."

She swallows but manages to keep her voice even. "Why?"

He sighs. "Can you keep a secret?"

Like what? How many bodies are buried nearby? She thinks. She nods. "Yes."

Turning to face the fire, Nate holds out his hand, palm up. Before Ana has a chance to ask what he's doing, a small ball of fire appears at the center of his palm. Turning to her, he smiles as her eyes widen and she backs up against the archway. "Don't worry, Ana." He says. "I won't hurt you." As he says this, he turns his palm over and Ana watches as the fall turns into a stream of fire that envelops the stacked wood in the campfire. His hand extinguishes and he motions for her to sit on the log opposite of him. Remaining where she is, she looks between him and the fire.

"You're…. a mage." She mutters, her brows drawn together. "But… where's your staff?" Her eyes dart over the little camp.

"I don't carry one." He shrugs. "I prefer to be known as a warrior and wield a sword."

"But… you're a mage." Ana repeats, lamely.

He nods. "Yes, I think we covered that with the flames coming out of my hand thing."

Slowly crossing toward the log he offered to her, she sits down and watches him with a perplexed expression over the flames. "You're an apostate." She breathes. "That's why you don't want to be near the main camp; because of the templars."

"Now you're catching on, Princess." He chuckles. Pulling out his dagger, he starts working on his rabbit.

She looks at him flatly. "I'm not a Princess."

"Mhm."

"I'm not!" She pouts. "I'm—"

She instantly clamps her mouth shut which earns a curious glance from her companion.

"Yes?" He smirks. "You're what?"

She bites her lip as she tries to determine whether or not she should reveal herself. After all, he just revealed a huge secret to her.

"If it helps, I'm obviously very good at keeping secrets." He smirks.

She looks at him through the flames. "Why do you always call me, My Lady?"

"You carry yourself like a noblewoman for one." He shrugs with a smirk. "After I called you it the first time, you didn't correct me. Many women tend to correct such things. Also, from the way you acted in the mess tent, it's apparent you're used to better treatment."

She sighs. "You're right." Her eyes flick up to meet his. "I'm of noble birth. Well…" She looks down at her hands as she feels the tears starting to well up. "I was. I'm not sure what I am now."

"If you don't my asking, did something happen? Lost fortune or something?"

"Something like that." Ana shrugs. "Have you heard of Bryce Cousland?"

"Yeah." He nods. "He's the Teyrn of Highever, I believe. Is he a relation of yours?"

She nods. "He was my father."

Hearing this, his brows draw together. "Was?"

She doesn't speak but instead nods. Pausing his cleaning of his rabbit, he watches her through the flames and frowns. Poor girl. Something must have happened but it would be best not to pry. Perhaps I can ask her about it at a later time. He clears his throat which makes her look up. Captivated for a moment by the way her blue eyes seem to glow in the firelight, he almost forgets what he was going to say next. He plasters a smile on his face. "I hope you don't mind my asking, My Lady, but do you have anybody special waiting for you back in Highever?"

Sniffling, she lets a chuckle escape. "Maker, do you hit on every woman in Ostagar?"

"Of course not!" He exclaims with feigned offense before smirking. "Only the incredibly beautiful ones." He winks.

He smiles as she chuckles again. "It's complicated." She says. "He was a knight who worked for my father. Our castle was attacked and we fled." She says, her smile falling as sadness begins to take its place. "We had to split up and now I'm waiting to see if he'll show up here. We're supposed to join the Grey Wardens together."

"Sounds like quite the story." Nate says with a sympathetic smile. "I'm sure he'll be here soon."

"I pray that you're right."


	19. You've Got A Friend In Me

The sun begins to dip below the trees surrounding the old ruins as Ana hungrily tears into her third piece of rabbit in the past hour. Nate watches her from across the flames, grinning with amusement as the juice dribbles down her chin. Feeling his gaze on her, she looks up and feels a blush creep up from her neck. Gingerly setting the meat back down on her thin plate on her lap, she self-consciously wipes her mouth with the back of her sleeve with a bark of laughter. "Maker, forgive me." She says moving a piece of stray hair from her face.

"It's not a problem." He chuckles, rising to remove the second rabbit roasting over the fire. "I like a girl with an appetite." He says with a wink.

Ana smiles as she looks down at the remaining meaty morsels attached to the bone and tries to resist snatching it up and tearing into it once more. "Nan would have a heart attack if she saw how I was behaving." She chuckles. Risking a look up, she sees Hawke watching her curiously.

"Who's Nan? Your grandmother?" He asks, removing his knife from his belt and carefully cutting off sections as he did before.

Ana shakes her head. "No. She was my nanny for most of my life." She explains, feeling a sudden pang of grief well up at the thought of her old caretaker. "Once I was old enough to care for myself, she worked in the kitchens as head chef." Her eyes fall down to the meat on her plate once more. "My brother Fergus would always tease me because Nan would constantly reprimand me for my manners."

"Like?" He asks with an encouraging smile. Rising from his seat, he walks around and holds out the plate of meat. With a grateful grin, she quickly grabs two pieces and drops them on her plate before he walks back to his seat.

Picking up her half eaten one, she stares off thoughtfully in the distance. "I remember she used to always chide me for having my elbows on the table, running down the long corridors…" She rips off a piece of meat and pauses to chew. "Or talking with my mouth full." She smiles at this last one before swallowing. Pointing the bone at Nate, she wags it at him. "Ladies do not wipe their mouths on their sleeves!" She imitates in a croaky voice before they each chuckle.

"Sounds like you really liked to cause her trouble." Nate laughs.

"I did." Ana admits. "I'll miss her."

A sad silence permeates before Ana's face rises. Listening to the distance sounds, she puts down her meat and looks around them. Picking up on her sudden alertness, Nate lowers his plate. "What is it?" He asks, his eyes scanning the broken pillars and archways surrounding them.

For a moment she doesn't say anything before she turns to him. "Do you hear that?"

Nate listens for a moment before shrugging. "I hear a dog barking but that's about it."

"That's the thing." She says, setting her plate on the log beside her. "Just one."

Nate's brows draw together. "What about it? The king and ash warriors have pens full of dogs near the entrance to the Korcari Wilds"

Rising, Ana wipes her hands on her trousers and reaches for her dagger. "We're far away from the hound pens." She says quietly. "There's just one and it's getting closer."

His brows crease as he watches her walk around the fire, her gaze trained on the archway. Setting his own plate aside, he begins to reach for his sword before she sprints out through the ruins. "Ana!" He calls, jumping up. "Wait!"

She barely hears Nate's words as she sprints through the ruins, jumping over toppled columns and ducking beneath crumbling archways before stopping a few yards from the light brown mabari eagerly running toward her. Kneeling down, she grins as happy tears stream down her cheeks as she's knocked onto her back before having her face licked relentlessly.

"I missed you too, boy!" She giggles as she manages to wrap her arms around his neck and nuzzles him. As he begins to calm, she pushes herself onto her heels and scratches him behind his ears as she coos at him. It takes her a moment before she realizes what the appearance of Much could mean. Rising on her knees to look over Much's head, she feels her heart beat anxiously in her chest until it feels like it has stopped. Not far from them, she hears the familiar voice that she had grown so used to hearing in the past decade calling out for Much.

Rising to her feet, she waits anxiously, her fingers curling around the edge of her tunic as she bites her lip in anticipation. Before long, she sees him and feels relief and happiness wash over her as she immediately takes off at a sprint with her mabari eagerly running beside her. He barely has time to realize her presence before she smashes into him and they fall onto the cold ground with her astride him. She mutters his name breathlessly as her hand cradles his cheek. It takes only a moment for him to recognize the luminescent blue of his lover's eyes before his face brightens with a smile before he rises to meet her lips.

He rises into an upright position, his arms encircling her as he pulls her closer. Their lips move hungrily against each other as though it had been years instead of weeks that they had last seen each other. Had it not been for Hawke running up to check on his new friend, they might have begun stripping each other's clothing then and there in their moment of passion.

"Good to see you're unharmed." Nate chuckles as he runs up to see their lovers embrace. Stopping feet away, he sheathes his sword and waits as they pull apart. Seeing Nate, Ana looks away shyly. "Rory, this is Nate Hawke." She introduces, painfully aware of her lover's clothed cock pushing against the fabric between her legs. She motions to Rory and smiles. "Nate, this is Ser Roderick Gilmore. He's the knight I was telling you about."

Ser Gilmore returns her smile. "Not much of a knight anymore, I'm afraid." He says. Ana removes herself from his lap and he rises as well before dusting himself off and holding out a hand. "Nice to meet you, Nate."

"Likewise." He chuckles. "Ana here and I were just eating some supper and talking about where she grew up." He motions back toward his camp. "We still have an entire rabbit if you're hungry."

"That's very kind of you." He smiles as Ana comes to stand beside him, her hand entangling in his. "I couldn't impose. I'm sure you both need it far more than I."

Nate snorts. "Nonsense!" He says, turning and motioning for them to follow. "The more the merrier."

Returning to Nate's camp, they let Ser Gilmore eat as they continue to tell stories of their wild misadventures as children.

It's already dark by the time Carver returns, chomping away on what was left of his bread from supper when he halts at the sound of additional voices within his and his brother's camp. Due to Nate's concealed identity as a mage, visitors to their little hideaway weren't very often unless it be one of their fellow patrol comrades coming to share a nightcap before slinking back to their own tents in the main encampment.

He comes to a halt as he hears the soft, feminine voice as they laugh at something that was said. Maker he better not have brought another one of his bedmates back here. He thinks bitterly. That last chantry sister screeched like a bloody banshee every time she climaxed. I'm surprised the guards didn't come storming our camp for fear that the darkspawn decided to attack early.

He shakes his head and continues. Breaching the area of light coming from the campfire, he jumps back as a large light brown mabari raises its head with a low growl. All talking stops as Nate rises from his seat, his hand hovering over the pommel of his sword before making out his brother's form. His hand drops as he walks back to his seat. "No need to worry. It's just Carver."

"Yeah, just me." He says as he rolls his eyes. "Nate, didn't we discuss bringing women-"

As he turns to sit on the log beside his brother, he notices Ana and feels the color drain from his face.

"Ana, you remember Carver."

She looks him over with a disinterested glance. "Aside from running me over, vaguely." She shrugs.

He feels the heat rise to his cheeks and thanks the Maker that it's too dark for them to see. "It was an accident." He mutters as his brows furrow. "What are you doing here?"

He tries push the intruding thoughts of the possibility of Nate trying to sleep with the girl he likes again.

"Shouldn't you be back in the main camp?"

"I invited them." Nate casually states as he sucks the remaining meat from the bone he was nibbling around.

"Them?" Carver looks around before Ser Gilmore emerges from the shadows after briefly excusing himself to use a darkened corner nearby to relieve himself. As he returns, he notices the new arrival and greets him before taking a seat beside Ana once more.

Smirking, Nate rises from his seat and walks over to Much and tosses him the bone with some remnants of meat still attached before walking back. "Give it up, Carver." He whispers he sits. "You have no chance with her."

While neither Ana nor Roderick heard this comment, Carver's face reddens. He wants to ask his older brother why when he sees it from across the flames as Roderick cups Anna's face lovingly as their heads press together.

"Are they…?" He gapes as Nate nods

"That, " he says, motioning toward them. "Is Ana's lover. His name is Ser Gilmore."

Hearing this, he frowns. "He's a knight?"

Nate begins to answer him when they turn to look at the couple as they rise from their seats. Much raises his head from his paw, tilting it to the side curiously.

"Thank you again for the food, Nate." Ana smiles, clinging to her lover's side. "It was very kind of you to share."

"It was my pleasure." He returns with a smile of his own. "I imagine we'll see each other around in the coming months. Feel free to stop by anytime." His gaze switches toward Roderick. "You as well, Gilmore. Any friend of Ana's is a friend of ours."

"He's not exactly a friend." Carver mutters miserably which Nate ignores.

"Thanks Hawke. After the long journey we had from Highever, it was nice to have a hot meal again." Rodrick grins.

Once they finish their goodbyes, Ana and Rodrick start their way back to the main encampment as Much happily trots along beside them.

"I'm so happy you're alright, Rory." Ana says quietly, hugging her lover's arm as they lace their fingers together. "These past couple weeks have been horrible. I was so worried I'd have lost both you and Much."

"I know, my love." He says giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "But I'm here and we're together now." Turning, he smiles at her. "I'll never leave you again."

Ana stops walking and Rodrick turns to her. "What is it?"

Wrapping her arms around the back of his neck, she lifts slightly on her tiptoes, her lips pressing against his. It takes a moment for him to realize what's happening before his arms encircle her and he reciprocates the action before she pauses to look at him. "Take me, Rory." She breathes, brushing her lips against him.

Brows furrowing, he pulls away to look at her. "What?" He asks. "Here?"

She nods. "Yes. These past few weeks, I was devastated by the possibility that I would never feel your touch or hear your voice again." Her hand, which was only moments before pressed against the cool breastplate of his armor had now slipped down to his trousers. "Please, Rory. I need to feel you once more…" She begs, her lips pressing against his once more.

It takes all his willpower to stop her fingers as they just barely brush against the shaft of his growing arousal. "Maker..." He mutters, grasping her hand before it can wrap around his manhood. Her eyes widen with confusion as she looks up at him, her lips parting ever so slightly. Maker, she looks enticing. "My love…" He says breathlessly, offering a smile as she stares up at him with her luminescent blue eyes.

Removing her hand, she pulls away looking almost hurt. "Is there something wrong?" She asks. "Has something changed in our time apart to make you not desire me?"

"What?" His eyes widen. "No!" Stepping forward, he takes her hands in his and brings them up to his lips, placing a kiss before meeting her eyes that peer sadly up at him. "Of course not." Reaching up, he cups her jaw, his thumb running over her cheek and wiping away a stray tear. "I was just going to say that perhaps we should wait a little."

She looks taken back. "Why?"

He offers her a smile. "As much as I would love nothing more than to bend you over one of these broken pillars right now, there's no need." His smile falls slightly. "We're not at the castle anymore, Ana. We don't have to slip away into some dark corner for a quick tryst."

He leans his head forward and presses his forehead against hers. "I don't want a quick fling out here. I want you completely." His lips find hers once more and he smiles against her mouth as he hears the soft moan as he pulls her closer to him, his hand moving down her back to cup her rear and give it a gentle squeeze. "Let me come to your tent tonight." He offers, his voice husky with lust.

She pulls away from him, frowning. "I don't have my own tent. I sleep in the Warden-Commander's tent since I can't defend myself." She grimaces. "This place is full of lechers."

"Then come to my tent tonight." He offers. "I don't have a bed but you'll be safe and warm." He brushes his lips against hers. "I must have you, my love."

Pulling away from him, she bites her lip. "Then what are we waiting for? Lead the way."

* * *

Duncan leaves General Loghain's tent after spending most of his evening discussing shipments and inquiring his old rival about any sightings of Ser Gilmore or Fergus Cousland. He frowns as he imagines Ana's reaction to him telling her that there is still no sign of either man. He never was one to deliver bad news.

Feeling the need of a little bit of liquid courage, he makes a beeline through the Warden's camp to the usual fires reserved for their ranks, with the exception of the occasional royal army soldier or the King himself. Cailan always liked to hear the stories of their exploits like an eager child listening to a bedtime story. Surprisingly, not many Wardens are gathered around the fires like the previous night. Most must be too tired from our training today. He thinks, a smile creeping up to his lips as he wells with pride. Better tired and well trained than idle and incompetent.

As he approaches, he finds the usual senior wardens talking privately amongst themselves while the juniors talked excitedly about their past and recent sexual conquests. His eyes float over to Alistair sitting nearby, pretending not to listen as he sharpens his sword with a whetstone. He chuckles to himself. Poor lad. Every warrior should know the feeling of passionate love-making before going off to battle. He thinks to himself. It's obvious the lad is curious. Perhaps I should see if one of the more experienced young ladies in the royal army will help him out.

As Duncan approaches Edric – one of the senior wardens – he holds up his cup in greeting. "Brandy?" He offers, gruffly. Duncan nods and he bends down to retrieve his second cup from his pack, as was tradition in the past decade they've known each other. He fills the cup and hands it to his old friend. "Let me guess; Nowhere to sheath the old dagger?" He smirks. He lets out a rough chuckle as he runs a hand over his bushy, crimson colored beard which has since started to sport some grey.

"There's plenty of holsters, I assure you." Duncan shoots back with a grin. "However, my quarters are a bit too preoccupied at the moment for such… liaisons."

Edric snorts. "Yeah, I heard you have the young Cousland woman sleeping in your tent. She's quite a lovely young thing." He mutters, taking a sip. His eyes shift to his friend with a coy grin. "How old is she? Bit young for you, isn't she?"

Duncan glances at Alistair for a moment. "She's about Alistair's age, I believe." He says, returning his gaze to the old warrior. "She is indeed a lovely young woman but there's nothing happening. She's staying in my tent so that I may look after her given her inability to fight. Once she's taken her Joining, I'll have young Alistair look after her at night and I'll teach her to fight during the day."

Edric raises a brow as he lowers his voice. "You're going to have Alistair look after her? Is that wise? I've heard that they don't get along very well."

Taking a drink of his brandy, he sighs. "Yes...he does have a habit of not thinking before speaking." He shrugs. "As our youngest warden, hopefully by having him watch her, they'll be able to put aside their differences and get along. Maker knows we need our people on the same side."

"That's if she survives." Edric points out grimly. "Didn't your last batch of recruits all perish during their Joining?"

"They did…" He says carefully. He looks sadly down at the dark liquid in his cup as though he can see them there. A pair of twin brothers from Orlais who fled home to seek glory, a young dwarven lad who was banished from Orzammar for plotting to kill the King and a circle mage who was saved from execution after setting a templar on fire. As he lowers his cup, his eyes wash over those present and he frowns. "Speaking of Lady Ana, I haven't seen her today since I was out training with the newer recruits." His eyes shift to Edric. "You wouldn't have seen her wandering around, have you? My guards relayed that she said she would be near the entrance to await for her brother or friend to show but I didn't see her."

He shrugs. "I saw her only once and that was this morning in the mess tent. Anytime after that, who knows?"

Frowning, Duncan quickly drains his cup and hands it back to his friend before excusing himself. Maker, let's hope she didn't foolishly wander off alone after dark.


	20. A Thing Called Lust

Reaching Roderick's tent located in a slightly secluded area near the main camp, Ana instructs Much to stand guard outside and receives a whine in response. As Rodrick slips inside his tent to move things around, Ana kneels before her mabari with a smile. "Don't worry, boy." She giggles. She reaches up to scratch him behind his ears. "I'll be nearby. I'll come right back out after and we'll head back to Duncan's tent together. I promise." She plants a kiss on his forehead and gets a lick in return.

Hearing her name from the tent behind her, she turns to see the dim light of a lantern through the stained canvas and ducks through the opening.

Stripped of his plate armor, Roderick smiles as he approaches her. "Let me look at you, My Love." He says quietly as his hand comes up to cup her jaw. Relief floods through Ana as she leans into her lover's touch, closing her eyes. When she opens them once more, she sees him smiling at her. "What is it?"

"You cut your hair." He comments with a chuckle. "It's different."

Grimacing, she reaches up to finger her sheared locks. "It was to blend in…" She mutters with a grimace. Her eyes meet his with an insecure frown. "Do you like it?"

His eyes flick over it as his fingers brush over the frayed edges. "It's definitely different." Seeing her expectant expression, he smiles. "It'll take some getting used to. but it becomes you." Tilting her head slightly, he presses light kisses along her jawline. Inhaling her familiar scent, his kisses move up toward her ear and trailed down her neck. Ana's eyes flutter closed as she tilts her head to allow for better access. She sucks in a breath as his other hand moves over her corset and gives her breast a gentle squeeze. Their heated gaze meets once more as a need burns deep within. Lips crashing together, Ana's fingers awkwardly fumble with the strings of his trousers. Breaking the kiss, Roderick quickly removes his dirty tunic and undershirt and tosses them aside before eyeing his lover with lustful intensity. "Turn around." He says, his voice thick with desire. She does as she's told, biting her lips as she feels her lover loosening her corset as he sucks and kisses her neck. He peels her corset off and tosses it aside. His hands slip under the fabric of her tunic and rove over the taut plane of her stomach before splitting up as he pulls her close. His right hand comes up to cup her breast while the other dips below the waistband of her trousers, his fingers slipping over her slick opening. He smirks against her neck as a slight gasp escapes his lover as his fingers gently pull her folds apart before dipping a fingertip inside. "Wet for me already, I see." He growls, nipping at her sensitive flesh.

Feeling his growing arousal pushing against her rear, she leans back. "I want you, Rory." She pants. "Please…"

Removing his hands, she spins in his arms to face him before peeling off her own tunic and undershirt before tossing it aside.

His eyes move down and zero in on her bare chest as his hand once more cups her high breast. "You're so beautiful." He breathes as his thumb slides along the side before his hands slip down to her waist. Glancing up at her, he kneels before her before leaning in to trail languid kisses starting above her navel and moving down toward the waistline of her trousers. Hooking his fingers over the fabric, he smirks up at her which she returns with a wanton smile as her fingers runs through his short crimson hair. He continues his kisses as he gently works her trousers off her hips before letting them fall to her feet.

A soft moan escapes her as he kisses her downy mound, reaching behind to grab her thigh and put it on his shoulder for better access. "Rory…" She moans as he pulls her folds apart and dips the tip of his tongue inside once then twice as her grip tightens on his shoulder. Encouraged by the soft moans and whimpers, his tongue probes her slit and laps up her arousal, filling the tent with wet noises that leave little to the imagination. As she gets sent over the edge, her head leans back as a moan tears from her throat before she brings up her hand to muffle it as Roderick stops to shush her with a chuckle.

As she rides along her first climax, he glances up and beams as he watches her face while rubbing her clit with his thumb. As she starts to come down, she shoots him a dreamy eyed grin.

Without a word uttered between them, Rodrick lowers her leg from his shoulder and quickly dispatches of his own trousers and braies. Holding her gaze, he grins as he lies back on his bedroll with his erection proudly displayed. Walking over to him, she straddles his thighs as she takes him in her hand, grinning as he rises on his elbows as she gently strokes him. With a growled warning, she rises slightly and guides his cock into her and slowly lowers, savoring the feeling as he stretches her with each delicious inch that sinks deep within her. As he is sheathed to the root inside her, she waits as she feels his length pulsing inside her before slowly beginning to roll her hips, earning groans from her partner as his hands caress her thighs.

"Let me show you how much I missed you." She breathes, picking up speed.

* * *

On the other side of the camp, Duncan paces in his tent after finding Ana nowhere in sight. He pauses at the sound of his Junior Warden's voice as Alistair speaks to the guards outside his tent. "Come in, Alistair." His voice booms. The talking ceases and he hears the flap opening before Alistair appears moments later. He bows his head as he salutes his commander. "You wished to speak with me, Duncan?" He asks. "I was just heading back to the dormitory tent when somebody told me you were looking for me."

"I did." He nods, motioning for him to come closer as he rounds the table between them. Leaning back against the table, his dark eyes watch the lad for a moment before he speaks. "You did well in training today." He comments, crossing his arms over his chest. "Your reaction time with a shield is a bit slow but otherwise, well done."

Alistair's face lowers slightly. "I know… I'll work on that."

Duncan nods as a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. He's so much like Maric. "Perhaps if Ana passes her Joining, you can train with her." He says thoughtfully, watching his young recruit's reaction. He wasn't sure if it was the shame of being chided by his old commander but he watches the lad avert his eyes for a second as a slight blush creeps over his cheeks as he shrugs.

"Perhaps." Alistair's lips curl up in an amused grin. "Given how much she despises me, blocking her strikes will make for great practice."

Duncan snorts at this. "I'm sure with time you will find a way to get along." He suddenly frowns. "She's going through a lot right now. I'm sure that with time, she'll be more…amiable."

"I doubt that." Alistair mutters which Duncan ignores.

"Speaking of your potential sister-warden, have you seen Ana today?"

The lad thinks for a moment before he nods. "Yeah. I saw her praying earlier in front of the Andraste statue."

Duncan raises a brow. "And?"

The lad shrugs. "I did as you suggested and offered her to join me at the mess hall but she declined. I haven't seen her since." Seeing his mentor frown, Alistair shifts from one leg to the other anxiously.

With a sigh Duncan turns away from the lad and drums his fingers on the table. Where could she be? He thinks to himself as he frowns. She wouldn't be foolish enough to leave camp in search of her lover and brother…would she? He straightens and walks toward her cot in the far corner and sees her pack still stashed away beneath the frame. Pushing it with the tip of his boot, he catches a small glimpse of the Cousland insignia and feels a wave of relief wash over him. Turning on his heel, he strides back to Alistair who watches him curiously.

"She's probably out praying or attending one of the chantry's late-night sermons." He says finally. "Go look for her and bring her here. I need to speak with her."

Alistair grimaces and opens his mouth to make an excuse to avoid the ear full he would no doubt get when he found her, but snaps it shut as he sees Duncan's challenging gaze. Resisting the urge to groan, he nods. "Right away." He mutters.

Leaving his Warden-Commander's tent, Alistair feels the tug of exhaustion at the corners of his mind as he makes for the Andraste statue he found Ana at earlier. A small group of people are gathered around the small platform where a chantry mother, dressed in her usual chantry robes, speaks softly as those flocked around her nod in agreement to her words. Pushing past his unpleasant memories of his own nine years spent in the chantry, he grimaces and tries to focus on the faces lit by the two flickering torches on either side of the platform. At least half of the peoples' eyes were closed as they listened while a few others glanced warily at him before he bashfully nods and walks away.

Climbing the nearby crumbling stone stairs, he passes through the infirmary area and tries to block out the wounded soldiers being tended to on their cots. One groans as he passes and mutters a plead to be killed which makes him walk a bit faster. He passes the conjoined mess tents, glancing inside in case she decided to hide out in the dark. Pushing onward, his eyes scan the ocean of tents filling the tree lined vista of the royal army camp. With most of the fortress fast asleep to prepare for the next day's duties, he sees a few lit up and hears soft murmurs from somewhere nearby. "Ana." He hisses, glancing around him as though he could summon her out of sheer will. Part of him half expected somebody to peek their head out and yell at him for disturbing them.

He walked around for quite a while, growing more tired with each row. Heading outwards, the tents became fewer and fewer. Feeling ready to give up and head back toward the mess tents to check near the mages, he hears something coming from somewhere behind the ash warriors' encampment. He pushes forward, taking care to avoid the guy ropes as he follows the sound. Tucked away near the back, he saw the dimly lit tent that was separated from the others where the sounds seemed to be coming from. While he was mostly safe in camp, his hand stayed poised on the pommel of his sword just in case. He slowly advances until he gets close enough to make out the feminine tone and halts mid-stride. Before him, the dim lighting from inside silhouettes a woman. Soft moans emit from the tent and Alistair's cheeks burn but his feet refuse to move.

He bites his lip as he clamps his eyes shut. Leave, Alistair. He chides himself. She's obviously not here. Turn back. When he opens his eyes again, he finds himself standing before the flaps, curiosity burning through him. He hears a man's guttural groan and he reaches out toward the flap, his fingers barely grazing the canvas as his conscience once more makes an attempt to bring him back to his senses. Don't. They need their privacy!He starts to retract his hand when he hears the woman mutter her lover's name with a breathy sigh.

"Rory…."

Maybe just a quick peek. He tells himself as he reaches out. His breath becomes ragged as he pulls the canvas back slightly. Moans emit from inside and his eyes travel down the smooth breadth of the woman's bare back and down to where her hips rocked as she straddled the man's lap. The man mutters a lewd comment to his lover but Alistair barely hears him as his heart pounds loudly in his ears and he shifts as his trousers get uncomfortably tight. Finally, throwing her head back, a loud moan tears from her throat as her body goes rigid. He watches as the man's hands reach up to grab her hips and he bounces her on his cock a few more times which sends him over the edge. Alistair sees a glimpse of crimson hair as the man sits up and he quickly drops the canvas and steps back, almost tripping over the large mabari lying lazily nearby. His eyes widen as the hound raises its head from its paws and cocks its head to the side before giving a small huff and, deciding that he's not a threat, lowers its head onto its paws once more.

Relief floods through him as he turns around and starts walking, painfully aware of his erection in his trousers. Halting a few feet away from one of the torches lighting the path through camp, he glances back in the direction of the tent. Biting his lip, his mind replays what he saw in the tent before he grits his teeth at the memory of the Reverend Mother's words about lust and impure thoughts. Shifting uncomfortably, he glances around before quickly rushing off to deal with it.


	21. The Unluckiest Trinket In Thedas

After a few more rounds, Roderick leans forward to trail a couple kisses along the back of Ana's neck before removing himself from her. He collapses on the blankets and beckons her toward him with a grin.

"Maker, I need a bath." Ana grimaces as she pushes the sweaty strands of hair that plastered themselves to the side of her face. "I think perhaps I should ask Duncan tomorrow about where to bathe." Her face scrunches up as she crawls over and curls up by his side. "Somehow I have a feeling I'm not going to like the options unless there's another uncorrupted hot spring nearby."

As she curls her bare leg around his, he reaches over to grab the blanket and pulls it over them. Hugging her close, he chuckles. "I hear you there. I can only imagine how horrible I smell."

A brief silence fills the tent as Ana runs her hands through the fine coppery hairs at the center of her lover's chest. She watches as her fingers trace shapes into the hair, mesmerized before she finally speaks. "I can't believe it's just us now." She mutters, a frown tugging at the corners of her lips. "Who knew our lives would turn out like this?" Her eyes flick up to meet his. "I've had a lot of time to think, Rory."

He raises a brow. "About?"

Reaching up to touch his cheek, her eyes move down as her fingertips graze the dark stubble that had begun to grow in the past couple weeks. "Everything." She mutters. "My family, the Wardens, Us…."

At the last part, his brows furrow. "Us?" He frowns. "Are you having second thoughts?"

"No!" She exclaims, her hand flattening and pressing against his chest. "I love you, Rory." Her eyes flick between his as if searching for something. "I was more thinking about what we spoke about during our last night together at the castle." Propping herself up on her elbow, she looks at him. "My answer is yes."

For a moment, his brows crease before he realizes what she means. His brows shoot up. "Really?"

She nods. "Yes. If that's still what you want."

"Oh, my love…" He breathes, smiling up at her. "Of course, I still want to marry you!" His brows suddenly draw together as he reaches up to cup her cheek. "But are you absolutely sure? I don't want you to feel forced or to do it because you believe you have no other options. I mean, you said…"

She presses a finger to his lips to silence him as his eyes watch hers. "I know I said that I wanted to enjoy being young and in love but…" Her voice cracks and she tries to hold back the tears. Rory reaches up to grab her hand and kisses it. She closes her eyes and leans into his hand cupping her cheek. When she opens them once more, he sees the sorrowful tears beginning to form as her eyes glow brilliantly in the nearby light from the lantern.

"Over these past couple weeks, our lives have become so chaotic and unpredictable that I'm afraid…" She pauses for a moment, her eyes reflecting the pain and sorrow of the past. Just seeing her in such a state breaks his heart but he can't think of the words to say. What does one say to somebody who has had her whole life ripped to shreds?

He lies there silently as she continues. "We don't know what tomorrow brings." She states as she meets his sympathetic gaze. "We're about to fight a war that we might die in and the thought of living my life without you is… unthinkable."

Hearing this, he smiles at her and tucks a rogue strand of hair behind her ear. "I couldn't agree more, Darling."

She nods. "If we're going to die in this war, I want to die as your wife." Leaning forward, she presses her forehead against his. "Maker, I love you…"

"And I love you." He whispers. Pulling away, he stretches a hand out toward his pile of discarded clothes and digs around for something as Ana looks on curiously. With a small triumphant noise, he sits up and turns to her. She raises a curious brow and he smiles. "I was going to wait until later to give you these but I guess now would be appropriate."

Hugging the blanket to her chest, she sits up and watches as he takes her hand and places something in her palm. She shoots him a curious look as she opens her hand. The tears she had been holding back break free as she glances down at the necklace before letting the blanket drop from her chest as her arms encircle his neck.

He chuckles as she releases him and looks once more at her palm before her brows crease. She shakes her head. "I don't understand… how?" She looks up at him.

He shrugs. "After you left with Duncan, I went back to the larder." He explains. "I was hoping to knock out one of Howe's men to steal his uniform to allow me to move around and gather supplies. Your mother was killed and they left your father to die from his wounds…"

He watches as Ana's lower lip trembles. "How did she die?" She asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, he almost didn't want to tell her. "Love, maybe…"

"Tell me." She demands. "Please..."

He looks away from her for a moment. "She was shot in the heart. She died instantly." She lowers her head and he presses on. "Your father told me to take your mother's necklace and their rings so Howe couldn't touch them." He frowns. "He said that they were meant to be passed down to you anyways."

She nods, her eyes misting at the sight of them. The necklace was something she saw her mother wear every day and had dreamt of when it would be passed down to her. Unlike the beautiful dresses her mother wore each day, it had a thin leather strap that bore a simple metal pendant carved with runes. It had once belonged to her own mother before she passed. When she was still a famous raider, she once told Ana, she would always wear it because it always brought her luck. Yet, now as Ana stared down at the pendant and two rings tied to it, it seemed like the unluckiest trinket in all of Thedas.

Closing her hand over it, she clamps her eyes shut and allows the tears to roll freely down her cheeks. "Thank you again, Rory." She finally whispers, her voice taking on a sorrowful hollowness that he had never heard before. "This means a lot to me."

She looks down once more at the pendent as her hand tightens around it. "May I?" He asks. She looks at him and he motions to her hand. She nods and hands it back to him before turning her bare back to him. Pulling her hair from her neck, she inhales a shaky breath as the cold metal of both the rings and pendant touch her skin. Once fastened, she touches it and feels a new wave of grief wash over her and turns to bury her face in his chest as tears begin to stream down her cheeks.

Pulling her to him, they lie back down and he strokes her hair as he mutters comforting things as she sobs into his chest.

As the lantern began to die down, they laid together in the dark, listening to the occasional whistle of wind outside the tent or Much's occasional snore. Finally, after what seemed like an hour or two had passed, Ana pulls away from her lover's embrace. "What's wrong?" Rory whispers as he sees her turn from him to grab her clothes.

"I need to return to Duncan's tent." She mutters, feeling around her clothes to find her trousers in the dark. She pauses as he places a hand on her back before feeling him place a couple kisses on her side and lower back.

"If you must." He sighs, trying to be playful. She frowns at the sadness that rings through and turns to look at him.

"I just don't want him to worry about where I've gone." She states, reaching over to give his leg a light squeeze. "Had I the choice, I would stay here with you." She smiles sadly. "After all, it would be nice to finally spend the entire night with you."

He sits up and cups her cheek to turn her face to him. "I know." He mutters, brushing his lips against hers. "Soon we will be together. Forever this time."

Quickly they get changed and Rory holds the flap open for Ana as she exits. She shivers slightly as the cold breeze hits her in the face and hugs her arms tightly around herself. Much once more raises his head and, seeing his mistress, jumps up with a happy bark. Quieting him, she kneels before him and chuckles, grimacing as he licks her face.

Together the three of them walk toward the lit trail leading back toward the main part of the fortress. They pass the Grey Warden dormitory and mess tents when somebody quickly rushes past them. Ana scowls at them as they scuttle ahead, hastily trying to tuck their undershirt back in their trousers. Her brows draw together as she recognizes the man as she sees his dirty blond hair in the light of the torches. "Alistair?" She calls out. Immediately, the lad halts and slowly swivels around. Seeing her, his face reddens as he recalls the action that had just taken place in the shadows and quickly clears his throat.

"Ah…there you are." He says, offering up a smile as he approaches. His eyes shift briefly toward Ser Gilmore before returning to Ana.

"What are you doing out here, Alistair?" She sighs, annoyed. "I thought you would be snoring away in the Grey Warden tent by now."

Straightening, he smiles at her which only makes her scowl at him. "Normally I would be dreaming about little baby mabaris jumping over a fence in a meadow by now, but Duncan couldn't find you so he sent me out to find you."

"Well you found me." She snaps. "Now you can run along."

"Now, now Ana…" Ser Gilmore frowns, glancing over. "He seems to have gone out of his way to come find you."

She scowls at him and Alistair's brows raise in surprise. He turns to face him.

"And you are?"

"Name's Roderick." He grins, holding out a hand. "I'm guessing you're Alistair."

Annoyed that he's being ignored, Much barks before Alistair has a chance to answer and all eyes turn to him. Ana shushes him which does little as Alistair motions to him.

"Oh, are you an ash warrior?" He asks Roderick before kneeling before Much. He smiles at the hound. "I've always wanted a mabari like you."

Much gives a low bark and lowers his head as an invitation to be petted. "Traitor." Ana mutters earning a whine from Much and a chuckle from Rory.

"Actually, this is Much." Rory introduces as Alistair coos and happily rubs the hound behind his ears. He motions to a sour looking Ana beside him. "He belongs to La—"

Before he can reveal who she is, Ana's eyes widen and she nudges him which earns her a confused look. Luckily, Alistair is so busy with the hound that he hardly notices the exchange as Ana leans toward Rory slightly. "Not many people know who I am." She hisses before Alistair turns his attention to her.

"He belongs to who?"

"Me." She says impatiently. "Now if you could be a good little messenger boy, you can go inform Duncan that you found me and that I'm on my way right now." She shoos him away. "Go on."

Rising, he frowns. "Would it kill you to be nice just once?"

"Probably." Ana sneers. "Please leave before I have to find out."

"Ana." Rodrick gently warns, frowning. She shoots him a glare which he ignores before turning to offer a friendly smile to the lad. "Please forgive her. It's been a rough couple of weeks for her and she's still adjusting to everything. I believe what she really meant to say was that if you can report back to the Warden-Commander that you have found her and that she's on her way, we would greatly appreciate it."

Alistair's brows shoot up as his eyes shift between the two of them. Ana rolls her eyes. "Rory, you don't need to speak for me." She begins to snip. As she begins to bicker with her friend, Alistair stares at him as he tries to think of where he's heard the name 'Rory' before. Before he can think of it, Ana swivels to glare at him.

"Are you seriously still standing here?" She sneers. "Go!"

Abruptly pulled from his thoughts, he stares at her with incomprehension for a moment before realizing what she said. Shooting another curious glance at Roderick before turning on his heel and marching back to the main encampment. I wonder how common the name Rory is around here?


	22. An Appealing Prospect

As Ana, Roderick and Much approach Duncan's tent, the guards eye the war hound warily. "Was Alistair just here?" Ana asks, her hand possessively grasping Much's collar as she notices their gazes. One of them removes their gaze from Much to nod. "He has. He should be in there with the Warden-Commander still." He motions toward the flap with his chin. "You should be able to go on in."

She mutters a thanks to the man and starts forward with Much by her side when the other man holds out a hand. "Oy. Shouldn't that hound be locked up with the others?" He asks, motioning toward the hound with his chin.

"No." Ana says, her steely gaze falling on the man. "This is my hound and he remains with me."

The man skeptically looks at her. "You didn't have a hound before. Maybe you stole it."

"Excuse you?" She hisses. "Do I look like a thief to you?"

Before the man has a chance to say the wrong thing, Roderick quickly speaks up. "She didn't have him because he was with me." He states with a confirming short bark from Much at the mention of him. Roderick smiles at him before turning his attention back to the guard.

"And you are?"

"I'm Roderick Gilmore. I'm Duncan's other recruit from Highever. I had some business to tend to before leaving, so her mabari stayed behind with me. We just arrived."

The guard's eyes narrow at them for a moment as though debating whether or not they're telling the truth. After a short while of being glared at by Ana, the guard finally lowers his arm and motions for them to enter. "Just don't cause any trouble." He mutters gruffly as they pass through.

Just as the man said, they find Duncan and Alistair talking quietly when they arrive. They barely notice until Much gives a little whine at Duncan. Their conversation halts and he turns to them, his brows raising as he sees Roderick and Much standing beside his charge.

"Ah, Ser Gilmore." Duncan greets turning to face them. He smiles as Much whines again and he bows his head. "Much." Much's tail thumps loudly against the nearby canvas as he gives a happy bark at being acknowledged. Snorting, Duncan turns his attention back to the knight. "It's good to see that you were able to make it. I was not aware that you had arrived."

"It was only quite recently." Roderick returns with a smile. "I was told to set up my tent when I arrived. Once I finished, Much caught Ana's scent and took off to find her." He chuckles, turning a loving gaze on Ana. "Fortunately for me, he led me straight to her."

Alistair brows furrow in confusion as he watches as Ana blushes and returns his smile. While she very well may have, he couldn't remember ever seeing her smile in the short time he's known her. Scowls and sneers perhaps, but never such an unguarded smile. He grimaces at the slight twinge of envy as his eyes shift once more to Roderick as Duncan speaks.

"Fate seems to have worked in your favor." Duncan nods. His expression becomes solemn. "Now that you're here, I think that perhaps tomorrow will be a good time to have the recruits begin preparing for their Joining."

Roderick's brows draw together. "Joining? Is that like a match to test our skills or something?"

"Something like." Ana hears Alistair mutter as he crosses his arms over his chest.

Duncan remains stony faced. "As I told Ana, I can't reveal much at this time. I'm still awaiting news of Fergus. Maker willing, he will have survived Howe's treachery and will arrive soon. Becoming a Grey Warden means sacrificing your former life to fight for the greater good. With Fergus' unknown status, I would like to see that at least one Cousland survives to keep their line alive."

"Wait…" Alistair begins, his eyes narrowing at Roderick. "I thought you said your name was Gilmore?"

"It is." Roderick nods. "I was only a knight that served the Couslands."

"Then who—"

Ana rolls her eyes. "He's referring to me, you prat." She sneers, shooting him a glare. "I'm the other Cousland. Fergus is my brother and my father was Bryce Cousland, Teyrn of Highever."

Alistair's eyes widen. "You're…you're a noblewoman?"

"Was." She blurts out before she knows what she's saying. As soon as the words leave her lips, she grimaces as the words taste like ash in her mouth. Pushing aside the emotions starting to reemerge, she turns her attention back to Duncan. Duncan and Roderick offer sympathetic expressions while the lad continues to gape at her.

"On the off chance that Fergus doesn't survive, what then?" She asks. "Will I not become a Warden?"

All eyes turn toward Duncan who sighs. "It's hard to say at this point." He admits. "We'll have to cross that bridge when we get to it. In the meantime, I'm sure Ser Gilmore is very tired from his long journey and would like to retire for the night. After all, tomorrow will be a busy day for all three of you."

She glances at him, a frown beginning to form. "But…" She begins to argue. Noticing Duncan raising a brow at her, she clears her throat and straightens, tilting her chin up. "Given his long journey, he spoke of wanting a bath. I imagine there's someplace he can do that? I'm sure he wasn't as lucky as we were to find a hot spring."

Duncan nodded as the erotic images from the hot spring seep into the forefront of his mind. While it was clear that nothing would happen between them regardless of the sexual tension during that time, he had since privately spilled his seed a few times to the image of her nubile body in the steaming water of the hot spring. Maker, Gilmore is a lucky man, he thinks to himself as he shifts slightly.

"Of course. Back near the infirmary, there's a couple wash-tents for soldiers and their wives. Alistair can show you where it is."

Alistair is about to agree when Ana quickly speaks up. "I can show him!" She says, feeling all men's eyes on her. She clears her throat. "I explored the fortress a little bit today and know where the infirmary is. I can show him. It'll be a great way to familiarize myself with the camp and gives me a chance to bathe as well." As she says this last part, she avoids Duncan's amused gaze. "It's been a week since I last had a bath and I can already smell myself. If I have to go another minute like this, I'll scream, throw-up or both."

Duncan watches her for a long moment. In his mind, he could imagine her young lover soaping her up and could feel a twinge of arousal laced with envy. What I wouldn't give to be twenty years younger. Finally, he nods, "Very well." He turns to Alistair, clearing his throat to pull his junior Warden's attention from his pretty, young recruit. "Alistair."

Hearing his name, his head snaps in Duncan's direction and gets a small smile in return. "Hm?"

"You may retire for the night." Duncan says, straightening. "In the morning, once I get the reports, I'll send for you. Tomorrow should be an eventful day for you especially." He says, a knowing gleam in his eye. Being Duncan's go-to man for the recruit wilds test, Alistair salutes him and nods. "Goodnight, Duncan." He turns to leave and pauses before giving an acknowledging nod toward Roderick who smiles and nods in return. He mutters a goodnight and nods to Ana but she simply ignores him.

Duncan watches a discouraged Alistair quickly scuttle from the tent and sighs. I'll need to talk to her about her behavior later. Grief or not, this is getting to be too much. Taking a step forward, he clasps a hand on Roderick's shoulder. "Welcome to Ostagar, lad." He says. "Tomorrow after you get something to eat in the mess hall, I will gather all the recruits. I have a task I need you to do before the Joining. It'll be your first post-recruitment test so be sure to get as much rest as you can. Understand?"

Roderick nods and salutes him. "Yes Sir."

Turning his attention to Ana, he watches as she shifts tensely from one foot to the other. "And Ana," He begins, "While I imagine you would rather sleep elsewhere, I would like you to return after your bath and continue to sleep in here until your Joining. With no word about Fergus, I want to ensure your safety." Mostly because I have no idea who will return from the wilds.

She groans but nods. "Very well." She mutters, motioning for Roderick to follow. Roderick thanks him once more and then disappears from the tent after Ana.

* * *

The wash tent is devoid of people or servants when they arrive. Giant copper tubs closed off by curtains for extra privacy line the edges of the tent with a table holding towels sitting in the middle. Gilmore walks toward one area to see if its vacant while Ana gaze shifts around the tent before she frowns. "Where are the servants?" She asks, more to herself than her companion. "Are we supposed to fill these tubs ourselves?" She walks over to each bath to see if any are already filled and find none.

"I believe these are dweomers." Gilmore says from behind a curtain.

"A what?"

Striding over, she pulls the curtain away to find him already naked from the waist up. Ana's brows raise as her eyes fall on the indents over his hips and abdomen. Noticing her heated gaze, he chuckles. "They're dweomers." He states again. "I've seen them in Orlais when I accompanied your father to settle a trade dispute with some noblemen. It's enchanted." He motions her over and takes her hand as she stands before him. Resting his other hand on her waist, he moves her hand over the tub and it immediately begins to fill with steaming water.

"Brilliant!" She breathes, turning to smile at him. "What I wouldn't have given to have that at the castle. Sometimes my bath would be—" She stops mid-sentence, a pained look crossing her face. Frowning, Roderick raises his hand to touch her cheek.  
"I know, my love."

Pressing a kiss to her temple, he turns to leave the curtained area but she grabs his hand. Looking back, he raises a brow. "What's wrong?"

"Where are you going?"

"I was going to prepare your bath for you." He smiles. "I may not be as good as your servant was, nor will I have the luxurious perfumes but I'll try my best."

Pulling him toward her, she shakes her head. "There's no need. I have a better idea."

"Oh?"

Pulling him back into the curtained area, she closes it around them and reaches up to wrap her arms around his neck. "We have a perfectly large enough bath here." She grins. "Perhaps we should just bathe together." She brushes her lips teasingly against his. "Don't you want to lather up my body?"

His hands encircle her and press her body against his. "Mm…. that is quite tempting." He smirks. Pulling his head away from hers, his expression softens. "Are you sure though? You're still a lady and I wouldn't want your reputation to suffer if people found out."

"It's not like we haven't seen each other naked before." She shrugs. "Besides, would it matter what lowly foot soldiers and kitchen staff say? It's your right as my future husband. Husbands and wives here bathe together all the time."

"That's very true." He chuckles. "In that case…" Flipping her around, his hands begin to loosen the strings of Ana's shirt and undo the buckles on her corset as he places languid kisses along her neck. "Let me help you undress, my love."

Ana is the first to be undressed and lets out a surprised giggle as he lifts her up into the tub. Once inside, she reaches a hand out and hooks her fingers on the front of his trousers and tugs him to her. "Your turn." She grins. "Hurry up and undress. I already crave to feel your wet body against mine."

Chuckling, he grabs her hand from his trousers and lifts it to his mouth for a kiss. "I will in just a moment. Let me grab a couple towels for after."

She pouts and leans back in the bath with her arms over her chest as he disappears for a moment before reappearing with two towels draped over his arm. Pulling the curtain back into place, he sets them aside and begins to strip.

* * *

Alistair rolls over onto his side for what feels like the twelfth time in the past half hour. Ever since he snuck a peek at the woman in the midst of making love to a man in the tent, the image of her smooth back and the way she rocked her hips astride her lover had ingrained itself into his mind.

At the age of twenty, he had yet to personally experience the pleasurable act that he had witnessed in the tent. Just thinking about it made envy curl up inside him. Lucky Bastard.

Many times, he had listened in to his fellow wardens speak of their sexual escapades and had them tease him about "having a go before the end". They had even offered to pay for one of the whores that frequented the soldiers' tents and occasionally the King and General's as well. Each time he had only managed to mutter an excuse in his flustered state and quickly run off. Admittedly, while he pleasured himself in the shadows of the old ruins, he envisioned the dark-haired beauty from the tent riding his cock and breathing his name in the dark instead of the red-haired man's.

Turning over once more, his mind replayed what he saw over and over again making his cock twitch with interest once more. With some luck, he managed to push the image from his mind but instead found his thoughts grasping for something more familiar and oddly enticing; Ana. While she may not be the best person personality-wise, he had to admit that she was quite beautiful with her dark brown, almost black hair and luminescent blue eyes. Admittedly, the thought of those eyes seductively peering up at him from his bedroll certainly had their appeal. As did the thought of her wet, soaped up body in the bath that she no doubt was in right now.

Shaking his head, he tried to shake the thought. Aside from the fact that she could potentially be his future sister-warden, there was no way she would ever want to be with him. She already made it quite clear that she didn't like him and acted as though he was no better than a filthy vagrant begging for money and scraps on the street.

Turning over once more, he sighs. This is going to be a long night.


	23. A Lover's Daydream

Turning her head, Ana's lips graze Roderick's as she inhales his scent. After allowing for her lover to lather her up, the muslin washing mitt he used to wash the soap off had an effect on her that made her press against him teasingly. In response, he removes the mitt and dips his hands into the water, his hand slipping down the smooth plane of her stomach before slipping between her legs. He drinks in her breathy moans as his fingers slips in and out in lazy rhythm. "Feels good, doesn't it?" He huskily breathes in her ear as he feels her back arch against him when he uses his thumb to stimulate her clit. Nibbling on her earlobe he grins. "I've missed those sounds you make, my love."

She smiles dreamily at him. "And I have missed your touch." She purrs. His other hand reaches around her bare breasts to pull her close as he nuzzles her neck. His stubbled cheeks tickles and she shies away with a giggle which makes him grin.

"I think we should…." She stops mid-sentence with a gasp as he massages the sensitive nub between her folds with increased vigor.

"Hm?"

Reaching down, she grabs his hand so she can form a coherent thought once more. She looks up at him as he smirks. "Let's get married tomorrow." She says with complete seriousness. "After Duncan's task, let's find somebody from the chantry and do it." She rubs her nose against his. "I don't want to wait."

He frowns. "Are you sure? We can always just wait until after our Joining?" He asks, his fingers idly brushing along her arm resting on the lip of the tub. "If Fergus shows up a bit late, I'm sure he'll want to be present. I know having at least your brother there would make you happy."

"I would love for Fergus to be there but… what if he never shows up?" Just saying such things felt like ashes in her mouth. She didn't want to count him out but if Howe was determined to assassinate the entire Cousland line, root and stem, who knows if and when he'll show up? With her luck, if her brother was still alive, he could get to Ostagar after the big battle and then what?

Pushing her wet hair from her neck, Rory presses a couple kisses along her jaw. "How about this? We'll begin setting up after Duncan's task tomorrow but wait to get married after the Joining. That way it gives your brother a bit more time to get here. If he doesn't show up by that time, we'll marry regardless and start our life together." He nips at her neck and her eyes flutter closed. "Then we can retire each night to my tent. Just you and I…"

"That sounds heavenly." Ana mutters. Opening her eyes, she turns to look up at him. "In all the darkness that has consumed my life, you truly are my single light, Rory."

Hearing her say this, he smiles and takes her hand in his and kisses the back of it. "And you are mine, my love." He mutters. Slipping his hand down, he places it on her stomach. "I hope you're pregnant."

Ana's eyes widen. "Rory!"

"What?" He chuckles, hugging her close. "I know we're at war but if you're with child, we'd be planting the seed for our future life together. Think about it. We can buy a house in the country and live simply with a couple little ones running around." He kisses her behind her ear. "A little girl with dark brown hair and a stubborn attitude like her mother…"

"Hey!" Ana exclaims, looking back and smiling as she's met with a smirk from her lover. "I'm not that bad."

"Oh no?" He chuckles. "What about how you were toward Alistair?"

She rolls her eyes. "That's different. He's annoying and he insulted me the first time we met!"

Rory shifts slightly as he runs his fingers up and down along her arms. "And what did he say? I'm sure he didn't mean it. He seems like a nice enough lad."

She turns to glare at him. "He called me an idiot!" She pouts, pulling away from him. "Of course, you would take his side." She mutters. "Everybody always takes the man's side."

Reaching out, he tries to grab her waist to pull her back to him. "Ana, I'm not taking anybody's side."

She resists his tugs for a bit before he finally manages to pull her back to him. Instantly his hand comes up to gently caress her breast, his thumb finding her nipple. Once more, his presses a series of kisses behind her ear and along her jawline.

"I'm only giving the lad the benefit of the doubt." He mutters. "You probably made him nervous. You tend to have that effect on people."

"You think I intimidated him into insulting me?" She snorts. "I doubt he needs help to act like a fool."

"Is that so? Tell me what happened."

Ana bites her lip as she debates it before shaking her head. "No."

Stopping his affections, he sighs and rests his forehead on her shoulder. "Ana…"

She turns her head. "What would be the point? Every time I tell somebody about what happened, they just excuse his behavior and say he didn't mean it." She sulks. "To everybody I'm just this horrible person who apparently can't be trusted to tell the truth." She scowls. "Although if I'm as much of a monster as people think, I can't see why you would risk being with me after all this time."

He rests his chin on her shoulder. "Because I've been lucky enough to see the good underneath the wall you put up around people." He mutters as he nuzzles her neck.

"Or because we're sleeping together." Ana frowns. "Perhaps that's at least worth having to put up with me." As she says this, his hold tightens as he holds her close.

"Ana, that isn't it and you know it." He whispers. She turns to look out at the curtain as silence falls between them before Rory breaks it. "Remember that time when I was throwing balls of mud at the fence in the courtyard? Your old guard Robert had sent me out to tell the stable hand to prepare the horses for Fergus and your father. I was waiting around for the man to return and decided to amuse myself."

"I remember." She frowns. "I had just evaded my tutor and ran outside. As I was running across the courtyard, you missed and hit me. My dress was a mess and Nan was furious."

"Yes, she was." He chuckles. "I felt terrible about it and tried to apologize but you hated me for about a week and refused to talk to me."

"Because Nan yelled at me!" She exclaims. "Had I not threatened to tell my father, she would have hit me with her wooden spoon. I still say that my anger was justified."

"Yet you never told Nan that I was at fault." He says, gently. "Even in your anger, you took the blame and told her you tripped and landed in a mud puddle."

Ana turns away and stares at the hairs on his forearm lying across her chest. "If I had, you would have been punished and possibly sent away. I didn't want to ruin your chances at becoming a knight. I remember you telling me that it was a dream of yours."

Rory smiles even though he knows she can't see. "See? Beneath the mask of nobility and elitist attitude you project, I know that you have a kind heart and will do anything to protect those that you care about. It'll take time for them to see the other side of you but when they do, I have no doubt that they will love you as much as I do."

Leaning back against his chest, she thinks about all this. "As wonderful as a little boy or girl with your red hair and diplomatic personality would be, what kind of life could we possibly have?" She frowns. "As much as I love dreaming of our perfect life together, this is reality. I've lost everything and you've lost your position. We have no money…"

"Shhh, my love." He mutters, kissing her temple. "I know that there is a lot going on in our real lives right now but don't worry yourself about that right now. Let's just focus on helping the Wardens and King fight the darkspawn for now. After the war, we will figure out what our next move is." His hand slips down once more to her stomach. "For now, let's just be happy to be alive and together once more."

Frowning, Ana nods. She knows he's right about focusing on the current situation but how could she when her future was so unsure?

* * *

Once finished and dressed, Ana watches Rory as he empties the tub with another wave of his hand. Normally she would be fascinated by water slowly disappearing but her thoughts of spending the night away from him once more occupied her thoughts.

"There." He says, turning from the tub. Catching her saddened expression, he frowns. "I suppose I should walk you back to Duncan's tent now." Reaching up, he trails a finger over her cheek. "I believe I have kept you up long enough, my love. You should get some rest."

Grabbing his hand, she nuzzles her cheek against it. "I wish I could sleep in your tent with you." She frowns, looking up at him. "It's not fair."

"I know." He sighs. "Luckily, after the Joining when we're wed, I will tell Duncan that I want my wife to sleep in my tent where I may protect her. He seems like a reasonable man. I'm sure I can sway him."

"I pray to the Maker that you can."

With one final kiss, the couple exit the wash tent and start back toward the Warden-Commander's tent.


	24. Life Is So Unfair

The sun has barely begun to crest the trees surrounding the fortress when Ana slips out of Duncan's tent. The Warden-Commander was already out making his rounds when she rose from her cot and snuck past the snoring guards at the entrance with Much trailing behind her. A cold wind hits her as she leaves the protection of the tent and she shivers before drawing her cloak closer to her as she quickly jogs back toward the tents pitched haphazardly amongst the ruins.

Stopping before the long rows, her brows draw together as she tries to recall where Rory had taken her the night before. Much whines beside her and she looks down at him. "What's wrong?" She asks. "Can you find Rory, Much?"

He tilts his head before letting out a low affirmative bark. Smiling, she motions out among the tents.

"Then what are you waiting for? Lead the way."

With an excited bark he bounds forward, pausing every so often to look back to ensure his mistress is following. Coming to a tent in the slightly secluded area near the main camp, Much paws at the ground before it with a small whine. Coming up beside him, she eyes the tent curiously.

"Is this Rory's tent?" She whispers. "Are you sure?"

Once more he gives a low bark and paws at the ground before looking up at her. Pulling the flap open a little, she sees her lover sleeping soundly and backs up slightly. Smiling, she scratches Much behind his ears. "Good boy. You know the drill."

As she silently pulls the flap open, Much makes himself comfortable in front of the tent and she slips in. Removing her cloak, she shivers as she removes her boots and sets them aside before kneeling beside him. Feeling a presence with him, his eyes snap open and he looks up at her, blinking. His expression softens into a puzzled expression. "Love, what are you doing here?" Noting her shivering, he pulls back his blanket and motions for her to join him.

Smiling, she slips under the blanket and curls up to him, placing her head on his shoulder. "I figured that if we can't spend the night together, I'd surprise you and join you in the morning."

"And what a wonderful surprise it is." He mutters, brushing his lips against her as he touches her cheek. Lifting his head, he looks behind her. "Did Much not join you?"

Wrapping an arm around his torso, she nuzzles his neck. "He's standing guard outside as he's been trained to do." A smile creeps up to her lips. "He woke me up whimpering and licking my hand. It's a good thing he didn't try to join me in bed as he usually did at the castle. I imagine he would squish me if he had tried."

At the mention of him, they hear him whine through the canvas. Rory raises his head to look with a chuckle before turning to her. "He's welcome to come in." He says, his lips curling up into a grin. "Unless you had other plans for this morning visit." Beneath the blankets, his hand slips down her side and grazes the front of her trousers.

Biting her lip, she giggles as his fingers begin to work on the buttons. "It has crossed my mind…"

Lying her back on the bedroll, his lips captures hers as his hand slips to the front of her trousers. She arches her back to meet his hand, his thumb gently grazing her seam before nudging the tip of his finger between her folds. A moan escapes from her throat and he grins against her lips. He pulls away.

"You know, I think this is the first time we've ever attempted to have morning sex." He chuckles, his fingers lazily slipping in and out of her slick opening.

"That's…not true." She breathes, her eyes closed as she focuses on her lover's caresses. Her fingers grip into his shoulder each time his fingers slip into the base of his fingers. Her eyes flutter open to look up at him with a dreamy grin. "You once took me in the storage room near the kitchens while I was on my way to breakfast. Remember?"

"Ah, yes." He chuckles, nipping at her jaw. "I remember you were wearing that delightful gold dress. You looked like a dream and I had to have you then and there."

He begins to kiss down along her neck which she tilts her head to give him better access. Feeling something touch his lip, he pauses to look to see her mother's necklace with its two rings hanging around her neck.

"What's wrong?" Ana frowns. He looks at her, enamored by the way her blue eyes gleam in the dimly lit tent. Her brows furrow.

"Nothing, Love." He says, offering a reassuring smile before pressing his lips against hers once more. "I'm just so happy to have you in my arms once more."

She smiles and pulls him back down to her. "As am I."

* * *

The early morning chill coming through a loose tent flap wakes Alistair from his fitful sleep. Groaning and shivering, he tries to roll over and pull his weathered blanket over him but another gust seeps through the thin fabric. "Alright!" He mutters. "I'm up!"

Pulling himself up into an upright position, he yawns and rubs the remnants of sleep that still clung to his eyes. Turning to look about the Warden tent, he sees that most of his fellow Wardens had already begun their days. Most likely they're either in the mess tent eating or the less fortunate few were on patrol duty. Regardless of Cailan's thoughts about the upcoming battle and lack of a Blight, Duncan still had them going on hourly patrols for any indication of darkspawn nearby. Luckily everything had been quiet on that front so far.

Leaving pieces of his plate armor in his blanket, he leaves the tent in just his tabard, trousers and boots. Stretching, his eyes scan the scenery as he hears the faint sound of the mess tent not too far off in the usual silence of the sleeping ruins. He inhales the aroma of the food on the crisp morning air and lets out a sigh. I should probably go get Ana and take her to breakfast. He thinks miserably. No doubt she'll berate the serving staff again and scowl at me the entire time.

He takes the long way to Duncan's tent and the guards give a grunt of acknowledgement as he approaches. He slips in, mentally preparing himself for what annoyed greeting he'll get for coming to get her but he finds only Duncan, who busy writing at the little desk at the side. Alistair frowns and his brows crease before he awkwardly clears his throat. Duncan doesn't even look up as he dips his quill into the inkwell once more. "Just a moment, Alistair." He says.

As Alistair quietly waits near the entrance flaps, his eyes scan the room as he shifts from one foot to the other. Finally, his mentor finishes whatever he was writing and replaces the quill before lifting the parchment up to the light. He gives a brisk bod and sets it down again before turning to the lad.

"What is it?" He asks, rising from his seat. By the way the lad looked, he had a bad feeling it wasn't good news. So far this morning, they had already been told about a group of soldiers that went out into the wilds the other day had yet to return. Before that, he had overheard one of the women who worked on the hill in the infirmary complain that they were beginning to run low on bandages and that the shipment was late.

Duncan waits patiently as Alistair shifts uneasily. "I was coming to escort Ana to breakfast." He says with a helpless shrug as he motions over to the empty cot in the corner. "Seems like she's already left."

Turning from his junior warden, the ghost of a knowing smile rises to his lips. I bet she's in the arms of her lover right now. He thinks to himself, a wave of envy catching him off guard. I imagine they're enjoying their first morning sex together. Might as well experience it while they can…

"Duncan?"

He's pulled from his thoughts as he strides over to the desk and picks up the paper and rolls it up. "Hm?"

"Do you know where she is?" Alistair asks.

Swiveling around, he offers the lad a smile. "Why don't you go ahead and head over there. I'm sure you're hungry and you'll need your strength for the wilds excursion today." He strides past him, scroll in hand, and holds open the tent flap. "I imagine she'll find her way there eventually."

The lad nods but Duncan sees his reluctant expression.

"Is there something else?" He asks, raising a brow.

Alistair remains silent for a moment before finally nodding.

"Will Ana be accompanying the others into the Wilds?" He asks. "I know you spoke of preserving the Cousland line in regards of the Joining but what about collecting the darkspawn blood? Surely she'll be able to take part in at least that. The other recruits will think we're favoring her if we don't make her take part in that test."

Duncan frowns. "That wouldn't be wise." He states, leaning back against the tactics table near the center of the room. "Yes, all wardens should go through that preliminary test to collect blood for their joining but Ana has no fighting skills or weapons training. Sending her out into the wilds would endanger everybody including herself. The others can at least wield some weapon; She can't."

Alistair's brows furrow. This was so unlike Duncan to recruit somebody with so little skill. If she could not at the very least defend herself, why would he recruit her? Typically Wardens conscripted people who committed some type of violent crime or former soldiers given their duties; Especially during a time when battle could happen at any moment, like right now. What makes her so special?

"Duncan?"

"Hm?"

"Why did you recruit her then?" He blurts out, his cheeks pinkening from the anxiety of asking such a question. "Why recruit somebody who lacks the necessary skills? I mean… I know she's nobility but still."

Duncan sighs. Might as well tell him now .

"She had little choice in joining." He begins. "Her home was overrun with soldiers as their old family friend, Rendon Howe, betrayed them. Everyone with exception of Ser Gilmore, Ana, her brother Fergus and myself was slaughtered in the beds in the middle of the night. We just barely managed to escape." His frown deepens. "I conscripted Ana to protect her from Howe by giving her the protection of the Wardens."

Hearing all this, the lad's expression softens. Her entire family save her brother were slaughtered? No wonder she's so defensive!

"Oh." He mutters, wishing he never said anything. "So that is why she talked about how she was a noblewoman."

Duncan nods solemnly. "Yes and while I know you are trustworthy, it is the utmost importance that we keep Ana's identity as Bryce Cousland's daughter a secret for now. There is a slight possibility that we may have some Howe's men in our midst. It was rumored that the Arl has dispatched some of his men to help aid the king in the battle against the darkspawn."

Alistair's brows furrow. "You don't think they're coming here to assassinate her...do you?"

The look Duncan gave him sent chills down his spine. "Honestly, I'm not sure. For the meantime, we will have to keep an eye out."

Leaving his mentor's tent, Alistair glances around him. Could Howe's men really be lurking around the King's camp of all places?

"Pst."

Alistair jumps slightly as he turns toward the sound. One of the guards beside him nudges his arm. "You lookin' for the girl?" He asks.

"Yeah. Have you seen her?"

The guard nods and points a gauntleted hand in the direction of the Grey Warden dormitory tents. "I saw her with a red haired lad and dog. They headed back toward the mess tents. I'd check there first."

Nodding, Alistair thanks the man and quickly takes off toward the mess tents.

* * *

Burrowing in the warmth of her lover's embrace, Ana sighs. She touches his hand, the pads of his fingers and his palms rough from his countless hours training with a sword over the years.

Gilmore turns his head. "What are you thinking?" He asks, pressing a kiss to her hair.

"I'm thinking about Fergus."

"Yes, that is exactly what every man wants to hear after making love to his woman." He quips.

Placing a hand on his chest, she pushes down to lift herself up to look at him.

"I'm serious, Rory."

He frowns. "I know. My apologies. I was only trying to lighten the mood."

Ana sighs again. "I don't know which is worse; Finding out Fergus is alive and giving the news about Oriana and Oren or finding out my only remaining family is dead. Both seem equally unbearable." She buries her face in his chest. "It's all so unfair."

"I know." Gilmore sighs, smoothing down her hair that raised from the static electricity. "The world is a harsh and unforgiving place."

Had her stomach not growled, she would have been fine with lying under the covers, their naked bodies still tangled together. Hearing the noise, Gilmore frowns. "Have you not eaten yet?"

Ana shakes her head. "Spending time with you was and still is far more important." Also I doubt that bitch cook will serve me.

He smiles. "Well, as much I wish you would have taken care of yourself first, I'll admit I'm kind of glad you didn't. It'll be nice being able to eat together in public for once without the leers of other nobles."

With the help of some urging from Gilmore, Ana reaches out to her pile of clothes near the corner of the damp canvas. Keeping the blanket on for warmth, she dresses and lies back as she watches Gilmore pull his boots on. Once finished, he shoots her grin. "Now, shall we, my lady?"


	25. Stop Making A Scene

Exiting the tent, Ana draws her cloak around her as Much jumps up excitedly. He barks and she quickly hushes him before Gilmore grabs her hand with a smile. Together the three of them start toward the mess tents. As they get closer, the scent of the food wafts past them on a chill breeze and she feels her stomach knot up. Stopping a few yards from the tent, Gilmore stops and shoots her a curious glance.

She releases his hand and crosses her arms over her chest. "You and Much can go ahead." She shrugs nonchalantly. "I'm not really hungry." As she says this, her stomach growls loudly and he raises a brow.

"I think your stomach begs to differ."

Her cheeks burn as she tries to think of something. "I...uh…" She begins, her gaze shifting away from his amused expression. "I drank a lot of ale last night. It's just gas or something."

Stepping forward, he grabs her hand. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?" He asks, keeping his voice low as his eyes meet hers. "I know something is wrong."

"It's nothing." She lies. "I'm just not hungry."

He gives her a skeptical look. "Ana."

Sighing, she rolls her eyes. "Fine. They're…" Looking away, her voice trails off.

"Yes?"

"They're… starving me out." Ana mutters, her face flushing with irritation and embarrassment. "They refuse to give me food."

His brows draw together. "What? Why?"

She shrugs. "I was just asking questions about the food when I got here and now they hate me."

Gilmore looks over at the open part of the tent where he sees a couple soldiers sitting at one of the tables, silently eating across from each other. He turns back to her.

"Have you tried,oh I don't know, apologizing?"

Her expression hardens. "Apologize? For what? I did nothing wrong!" She pouts. "All I did was ask a few simple questions. Why should I apologize? They're the ones who are in the wrong!"

"They probably don't see it that way, my love."

"And why should I worry about how servants feel?" She fumes. "They should know by now how to treat their betters! They should be apologizing to me for treating me so unkindly."

He sighs and she crosses her arms over her chest.

"What? It's true!" She exclaims.

Frowning, he runs a hand through his hair before meeting her gaze. "Ana, I know you're used to being treated a certain way," He begins, watching her expression as he carefully chooses his words. "But here… things are different. We're at war."

"So?" She shrugs, raising her chin. "That doesn't excuse them. I'm the Teyrn's daughter!"

"Do they know that?" She purses her lips and glares at him which gives him her answer. He reaches for her hand but she quickly pulls it away from him. He sighs once more as he crosses his arms over his chest. "See? Then how could they possibly know unless you told them? People can't read your mind, love."

"I'm not supposed to tell people." She mutters. "Duncan worries that revealing my identity will make me a target."

Gilmore nods. "He's not wrong." Stepping forward, he touches the frayed ends of her sheared hair. "You remember why he did this, right?"

Her eyes lift to his but she says nothing. She nods.

"You need to start blending in, for your safety. I know it'll be difficult but you need to act like you're lowborn." He pauses as she grimaces. "When I was sneaking around the castle using the hidden passages, I heard some of the soldiers talking about Howe was going to send men here to aid the king. I have no idea if he did, or how many he sent but you need to be cautious here."

At this news, her eyes widen and he sees the defiance drain from her and replaced with terror. "Really?" She whispers, her eyes looking around.

He nods and places his hands on her shoulders. "Yes. Many people here may not have seen your portrait but any soldiers who were at the castle might. You can't be making scenes over little things and drawing attention to yourself. You need to blend in. Understand?"

He watches as she visibly swallows. He waits as she meekly nods before pulling her into an embrace.

"I'm frightened, Rory." She mutters. "I don't know how to blend in."

He can feel her shaking slightly in his arms and he holds her tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of her hair. "I know but you have me. I'll be here to protect you and help you in any way I can. I'm not going anywhere."

They stand there for a couple moments until Ana's shaking began to cease. Pulling away, she wipes away some of the tears that began to break free with her sleeve. "Well then," She sniffs, drying her eyes. "Shall we?"

Gilmore offers her a small smile as he holds his hand out. "Absolutely."

Taking his hand, she takes a deep breath and they start toward the entrance. As they enter, they take their place at the end of the line that reaches almost to the opening of the large tent. The aroma that fills the tent reaches her nostrils and she feels her stomach growl once more. She stares at the long line with a grimace but refrains from complaining about it aloud. She looks over at Gilmore who gives her a reassuring smile.

The line moves slowly but eventually they reach the servers. Seeing Ana, one of the serving women begin to grab the bowls when Gilmore speaks up.

"Is breakfast over already?" He asks with a frown.

Without lifting her gaze from Ana, she shakes her head. "Just for you." She says to her.

Ana clenches her jaw and looks to Gilmore for help.

"Has she done something wrong?"

"Ay." The woman nods. "She knows what she's done."

"I was only asking questions!" Ana hisses. "I didn't do anything wrong! You-"

The woman raises a disinterested brow and cross her arms over her chest as Gilmore nudges Ana with his elbow. She glares at him and he gives her pointed look before subtly motioning toward the woman.

Clenching her fists at her side, she exhales. She turns back to the woman.

"I need you to hurry up and leave." The woman says. "There's people behind you who actually want our food."

Heat rises to Ana's cheeks as she looks down at the pot before her. "I just came here to...apologize."

"Oh?" The woman asks, smirking. "What for? Insulting my food? Asking me stupid questions?"

Maker, this is embarrassing. If my father could see me now…

"I wasn't-" She begins to argue before being nudged again. She sighs. "Yes…"

"Yes what?"

Her eyes meet the woman's. "Yes, I'm apologizing for all of it." She says through clenched teeth. "It was unworthy of me to act the way I did and I deeply regret it. May I please have some food? I am very hungry."

Somebody behind Gilmore yells for her to hurry up but she ignores them as the woman narrows her eyes at her.

"How do I know your apology is genuine? You could just be tryin' to butter me up so I'll feed you."

She's not wrong. "I am honestly apologizing. Please forgive my attitude toward you. Everything here is new to me and I'm not entirely sure how to act."

The woman watches her a bit longer before letting out an annoyed sigh. "We don't 'ave any of that fancy food you like. We have only the bare essentials, nothing more. Take it or leave it."

Thrusting a bowl out to her, she impatiently motions for her to take it. "Here. Hurry up. People are waiting."

Gratefully, Ana takes the bowl which the man beside the woman quickly scoops a ladle full of grey-ish slop into the bowl. Holding out a crude wooden spoon, Ana mutters a thank you as she takes it and quickly moves to the side. She looks down at the slop and resists grimacing as she feels the woman's gaze on her. Gilmore gets his food and thanks them before rejoining Ana and motioning toward a vacant table near the middle.

"Nicely done." He beams at her as they take their seats across from one another. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" She glares at him which makes him chuckle. "It'll get easier with practice. At least you were able to get some food."

As he says this, she looks down at the grey mush in her bowl and grimaces. "Sure, if this is what passes for food around here." She plops her spoon in and gags as it stands straight up on its own. She glances up as Gilmore shoves a spoonful into his mouth and wrinkles her nose. "You actually like it?"

He shrugs. "Not so much as like it as I'm used to it. This is typical campaign food that your father and I both ate."

The mention of her father makes a wave of sadness hit her as her gaze droops down to the grey mush. Noticing, Gilmore frowns and reaches across the table to grab her hand. "I'm sorry." He frowns. "I just meant…."

"I know." She mutters. Looking up, she scowls as she notices Alistair walking toward their table. She groans and quickly shields her eyes which rouses a curious look from Gilmore. Taking a seat beside the newest Warden recruit, Alistair flops down on the bench and looks over.

"Good to see you managed to find the mess hall. " He comments, plunging his spoon into his bowl of mush and taking a big bite. "I remember my first week here. I somehow ended up the on far side of camp and got stranded in the maze of ruins for an entire night."

"Of course I managed it." Ana snaps. "You'd have to be incredibly dull not to know your way around here. Then again, we can't all be fortunate enough to be trained by the best navigators." She smirks as Alistair's grin falls. Gilmore sighs and taps her foot under the table reproachfully but she ignores it. "I'm pretty sure even my mabari could find his way around with no problem."

At the mention of him, Much raises his head from where he's beneath the table near her feet. He cocks his head at her and Alistair follows her gaze. Seeing the large hound, he beams.

"Oh! I didn't see you there." He smiles, ripping a piece of bread and holding it out to him. Much sniffs curiously at it before scoffing it down and licking his hand clean.

"Much." Ana hisses, giving her hound a stern look which makes him lower his head with a whine. She glances up at a puzzled Alistair. "I didn't give you permission to feed my dog."

Alistair looks taken back. "Permission? I just gave him some bread."

Ana opens her mouth but Gilmore nudges her leg once more with a stern look of his own. "It's fine, Alistair." He says, clenching his jaw. "No harm was done. Ana, if I can speak to you for a moment?"

Know well what he was going to say, she shrugs. "Not right now."

His gaze pierces through her. "Ana, I insist."

Sighing, she rises from her seat. "Fine. Much, stay. I'll be back."

Much whines as Ana follows Gilmore outside the tent.

"I already know what you're going to say." She frowns, crossing her arms over her chest. "But did you hear what he said? ' Good to see you managed to find the dining hall'. Managed!" She exclaims. "As though I'm an idiot with no sense of direction!"

Gilmore sighs heavily. "I doubt he meant it like that." He says. "You're reading too much into it. He was just happy to see that you're making it around on your own. "

She shakes her head. "I know what I heard. I'm disappointed that you of all people don't believe me."

He glances around them before lowering his voice. "Ana, we've talked about this. You can't keep making a scene."

" You're making a scene!" She pouts. Feeling tears well up, she turns from him him and takes a deep breath. "I wish Fergus was here."

Stepping forward, he turns her around and places a hand on her cheek. "I know." He frowns. "Has Duncan heard anything yet?"

Ana shakes her head. "No. I'm starting to fear that he never will."

Alistair watches the two of them as they walk out and Much moves closer to his feet and lies with his head on his boot. He smiles down at the hound and rips another piece of bread and tosses it below the table.

"You like that, don't you?" He grins, spooning more of his porridge into his mouth. He glances up as Ana and the knight seem to be yelling at one another. He frowns. "Your mistress really is one to hold grudges, isn't she, Much?" He asks. Looking down, Much is looking up at him and cocks his head to the side. "She's quite terrifying when she wants to be." Much gives a low bark and Alistair raises his hands. "I meant no offense."

He glances back up as they embrace and his brows furrow. As he watches, he recalls something from the night before. She calls him Rory. The realization begins to set in and his eyes widen as he feels his cheeks burn. Sweet Maker.

As Ana and Gilmore start back, the memory of Ana's smooth back and her breathy moans return to the forefront of his mind and he feels a twitch of interest in his trousers.

Noticing Alistair's expression, Ana narrows her eyes at him as she once more takes a seat. "What?" She asks as Gilmore sits beside him. "Can you stop staring at me like that? You're creeping me out."

Lowering his gaze, he quickly jumps up and almost knocks over the trestle table in his haste. "Sorry." he says, unable to look at her. He awkwardly clears his throat and grabs his bowl. He's about to rush off before he remembers Duncan's task and stops. He looks up at Gilmore, his face flushed. "Once you two finish eating, Duncan will meet you at the bonfire near the mabari pens. You'll meet up with the other recruits and he'll go over the details of your task."

Gilmore thanks him and he gives a brisk nod before risking glance at Ana. She scowl at him and he quickly swivels around and takes off.

Watching Alistair rush off, Ana raises a brow. "What was his problem?"

Gilmore shrugs with a sigh and pulls his bowl closer to him. "Perhaps he had duties to see to." He suggests, spooning his food into his mouth. Or maybe you scared him off with your hostility.


	26. I Pray That You'll Return To Me

The other recruits were already gathered around the bonfire and chatting with Alistair when Ana and Gilmore arrive. The former thief she had met previously scowls at Much as the hound gives a low growl. Holding his collar, she gives it a light tug. "Shh. It's okay, boy." She coos, kneeling beside him. After some petting and well-placed scratches, he seems to calm down a bit and lies down on the muddy ground.

"Shouldn't that mutt be locked up?" He sneers. "Maybe the kennel master can give him a couple good kicks to fix his behavior."

Rising, Ana glares at him. "Maybe we should lock you up, thief." She snarls, her eyes flashing. "Or I can just command my hound here to rip your throat out and correct your behavior."

The man gives a decisive snort and Gilmore steps in. "Okay. That's enough."

The man looks him. "An' who the fuck are you?"

"Ser Gilmore!" Ser Jory grins from beside him. He salutes him. "It's an honor to see you again. I should have known you'd be out here."

Gilmore exchanges a glance with Ana before frowning. "Forgive me, but do we know each other?"

Jory chuckles. "Only in passing, Ser. I was part of the tournament in Highever. We fought during the combat and once in a joust. You are quite the fighter."

Gilmore's brows shoot up and he reaches out a hand. "Ah! Ser Jory! Now I remember. You were quite skilled yourself." He smiles. "I'm assuming you're here to fight for the king?"

The other recruit rolls his eyes and mutters something under his breath as Ana felt Alistair's gaze on her.

Jory shakes his head."I'm here to join the Grey Wardens. The Warden-Commander recruited me following my win at the tournament." He motions to him with his chin. "Are you here to fight alongside the Teyrn? I've heard that he sent his men here."

Hearing this, Ana's eyes widen. "The Cousland army is here? Is Fergus Cousland here as well?"

Jory shrugs as he shoots her a rueful look. "I'm not entirely sure if they're here or not. I only heard that they were sent out. Perhaps General Loghain would know."

She frowns and her shoulders slump just as Duncan walks up. Looking around at his group, he nods. "Good, you're all here." He states, his dark eyes flicking to each of them. "I trust you all slept well and have eaten?"

They all mutter a yes and Much gives a sharp bark. Seeing the hound beside his mistress, Duncan gives him a half smile. "Good. As you all may know, before the Joining can take place, I need you all to do a task." He reaches into his pocket to grab something. "Your task is to go as a group out into the Korcari Wilds where you will each collect a vial of darkspawn blood." He holds up a small glass vial.

"Are you fucking mad?" The thief exclaims. "Fully trained soldiers have gone into those Wilds and never returned! Yet you want us to go and collect darkspawn blood!" He looks at the others who seem to be equally unnerved but they say nothing.

"It doesn't matter." Duncan booms. "That is your task and you are required to do it before you can become a Grey Warden. It's tradition."

"Fuck tradition!" The man spits.

Ana can feel herself shaking but she holds her head high and keeps her expression neutral.

"I doubt that Duncan here would send us out if he didn't think we were capable of surviving." Gilmore states. "If this is the task that helps us prove our worth to the Wardens, I say we do it."

"Cunt." The man mutters under his breath which earns him a glare from Ana.

Jory nods. "Ser Gilmore is right. If this is the task we must complete to prove ourselves, let's do it and get it over with."

Nodding, Duncan steps forward and hands the vials to Alistair. "Since Alistair is the junior Warden, he will accompany you into the Wilds. As Grey Wardens, we have the ability to sense the darkspawn. With him at your side, there is little to worry about as long as you stay vigilant. Darkspawn are not the only creatures to lurk in the Wilds."

Turing, he points out past the mabari pens toward the big palisade gate where a guard stands nearby in his bulky armor. "I recommend dressing warmly. It can get quite cold in the Wilds." Turning back to the group, his eyes slide over each person. "If you don't currently have your weapons or armor, go prepare now and meet me over at the gate. Time is of the essence."

As the others disperse, Duncan turns to say something to Alistair before Ana approaches him. By the look on his face, she could tell that it wasn't good news. "I'm sorry, Ana." He frowns. "I checked with General Loghain and he has had no news of the Cousland army or your brother."

Ana's nails hit into her flesh as she clenches her fists at her sides. "Then what will become of me?" She asks, her voice hollow. "Am I to go out to the Wilds?"

He shakes his head. "No. You will stay here with me while Ser Gilmore goes with the other recruits."

Her eyes widen. "He can't!" She exclaims. "I refuse to allow it."

Gilmore places a hand on her shoulder as Duncan sighs. "Unfortunately Ana, you have little say in this. If you are worried about his well-being, I assure you that he will be safe. Alistair-"

Ana rolls her eyes. "Yeah, like I trust that bumbling idiot with the love of my life!"

"Ana, stop it." Gilmore says from behind her as Duncan's eyes flash at her.

"I would watch your tongue. Noblewoman or not, there is no reason for you to speak about the lad that way." Duncan snips. "While Alistair may be a junior Warden, he has plenty of experience taking recruits out to the Wilds for their task. He has the Grey Warden sense that comes with our profession and he's always brought back all the recruits he takes out." With exception of occasional recruit who tries to flee and gets killed by darkspawn. He thinks to himself.

Turning her to face him, Gilmore puts his hands on her shoulders. "Like Duncan said, there's no reason to worry, my Love. Am I not a skilled warrior on my own?"

"You are." She mutters. "But-"

He gives her shoulders a light squeeze. "With or without Alistair's aid, I can take care of myself out there. No matter what, I'll always come back to you. I promise."

While Ana wanted to believe him, recent events had made her skeptical. Life was so unpredictable! Even if he meant every word, who knows what could happen out there? For all they know, that thief could go rogue and stab people before fleeing. Fleeing alone into the Wilds was insane on its own but who knows what somebody would stoop to when desperate?

* * *

Together they return to Gilmore's tent and Ana silently helps him fasten his plate metal. He watches her solemn expression and touches her hand. Pausing what she's doing, her bright blue eyes look up at him.

"Everything will be alright, I promise."

"You know better than that that that is something that is entirely out of your hands, Rory." She says, chillingly. She finishes attaching his pauldron before letting her hands drop to her sides. "I am so tired of waiting and yet that is all I can do." Her bottom lip trembles slightly as she reaches up to caress his cheek. "I shall pray to the Maker and his bride for your safe return. It may not mean much but it is the best I can do."

He offers her a sad smile. "It does mean a lot. I feel safer already knowing that you will ask him to watch over me." He pulls her into an embrace and feels the wetness from her tears on his neck. "I shall also pray for the Maker that you are safe while I'm gone and that your brother returns to you." He mutters. "It breaks my heart to see you so sad."

Leaving his tent, Much runs ahead as a rabbit darts out from the ruins. They stop at the camp blacksmith to have Gilmore's sword sharpened before they join Duncan, Alistair and Ser Jory at the gates leading out to the Wilds. As they approach, Ana's brows furrow as she looks around.

"Where's the thief?" She asks, feeling both a sense of relief and nervousness at the lack of the rat-like man's appearance. "Is he not going to the Wilds?"

"He is." Duncan replies, looking not very happy at the man's absence.

"Daveth told me a few minutes ago that he was going to have his daggers sharpened and visit the chantry to pray." Ser Jory says.

"Most likely he'll try to steal the donations from the chantry tent." Ana sneers, earning am exasperated look from Duncan. He sighs and turns to Alistair.

"Go check the chantry and blacksmith. I can't have you leave until you're all together."

With a brisk nod, Alistair's gaze flicks to Ana before she notices his cheeks pinken and he averts his gaze before scampering away. What a strange man .


	27. Errand Of A Madman

Alistair returns shortly with the thief toddling along beside him.

"Bit impatient." The thief sneers. "I was just asking the Maker for some protection."

"He was trying to rob the donations box." Alistair counters, coming to stand beside his mentor.

Daveth shrugs nonchalantly. "Ay, and what if I was? It's only logical, ay? Once this war is over, I'll need money if I want to survive."

"What would that do?" Ana asks. "When you're a Warden, you're a Warden for life. And who's to say you'll survive the war."

"You're just ray of sunshine, aren't ye?" Daveth shoots her a glare. "Maybe you should get back to what you're good at, sweetheart." He sneers. "Being quiet and looking pretty."

"Enough." Duncan bellows before Gilmore has a chance to react. He turns to nod to the guard next to the gate. "You will not be returning until all your required tasks are done." He states. "Once out in the field, Alistair will give you your vials. Do not lose them or let them get broken. You each only have one."

The gate opens and the recruits glance out at the worn path leading away from the camp and into the dark recesses of the Korcari Wilds. As she looked out, Ana recalled the stories that Nan used to tell her about witches that lurked about with their strange creatures they kept as pets.

Duncan wishes them luck and Alistair heads out the gate with Ser Jory and Daveth in tow. Before Gilmore can follow, Ana grips his arm. Her eyes widen and he sees the worry that is etched there.

"Please come back to me." She whispers. "I will die if you don't."

Leaning down, he touches her cheek with a gauntleted hand and pulls her lips to his in a tender kiss. Pulling away, he rests his forehead against hers. "I will. I promise."

A hollow feeling overcomes her as he pulls away from her and starts out the gate. He stops once out and gives her a wave as she watches him disappear when the gate is shut. She feels like there's a vice around her heart and she absently reaches up to touch the rings on her necklace. "I love you." She whispers.

* * *

As Ana disappeared from his view, Gilmore's smile falls. Turning around, he jogs after the others and siddles up alongside Alistair where they are grouped together on the path near a rocky outcrop. Alistair glances over at him before nodding. "Alright, since you're now all here-"

Daveth looks around before he scowls. "Ay, where's that girl? Shouldn't she be out here with us? She's a recruit as well."

Alistair sighs. "She's a recruit but she already was able to collect the blood she needed on her way here." He lies. "Since she has already proved herself, she will remain in camp with the Warden-Commander."

Daveth rolls his shoulders. "Sounds like favoritism to me." He mutters. "All's well, I guess. Can't have a woman slowing us down; They are the weaker sex after all."

Gilmore and Jory glare at him and it takes all Gilmore's restraint not to run the thief through. No matter how entitled Ana acted or her station, he was raised never to insult a woman in such a manner.

"That's not necessary." Alistair replies. "She has done her task and now it is your turn."

Gilmore nods. "Of course. Lead the way, Warden."

Alistair's brows raise slightly. He's so nice. Aside from her obvious beauty, what else could he possibly see in Ana? He thought to himself. The sex must be pretty damn mind-blowing .

He feels a sudden pang of envy and quickly pushes it away as he addresses the group.

"Admittedly, collecting the blood isn't our only task. There is an old Warden archive in the Wilds which are now overgrown ruins. Duncan has asked that we recover some scrolls that were left behind."

"You want us to go into some old ruins for papers?" Daveth sneers, crossing his arms over his chest. "Are you mad? Who knows what's inside?"

Alistair opens his mouth to speak but Jory speaks first. "What if the scrolls aren't there? You said it's an overgrown ruin now. Perhaps they're gone by now."

"You have a point which I have brought up to Duncan. He has reassured me that the scrolls are sealed with magic that can only be broken by a Grey Warden." The lad shrugs. "It was assumed that we would return to the archive at some point but life has had other plans." Reaching into his pack, retrieves the small vials and hands one to each other recruits and keeps one for himself. While Ana was not able to join them, Duncan asked that he collect the blood on her behalf in case she still went through the joining. Not that she'll appreciate me for doing this .

A wolf howls in the forest nearby and Daveth pulls out his twin blades, dropping his vial onto the sparse grass. Sighing, Alistair stoops down and hands it back to the man. "Once more, this is the only vial you have. Don't lose or break it." He turns to look at the others. "Be wary. Many creatures lurk in these Wilds but don't let it shake you too much. Remember we have a mission to complete."

Putting Ana's vial in his pack, he waits as the recruits put theirs away before he urges them onwards. More wolf howls sound from the trees and he notices the tension growing among Daveth and Jory. He stops every so often to allow his senses to probe around for darkspawn before continuing once more. As he stops once more, Gilmore points out toward edge of the dirty path leading into the swamp filled with overgrown ruins and fallen tree trunks to a gruesome scene. Bloodied and festering bodies lie scattered about the remains of a destroyed caravan, the supplies it was once carrying lying in the mud as it spills out of the broken barrels.

"Maker's breath!" Jory exclaims, covering his nose and mouth with his arm. Alistair winces while Gilmore looks sadly at the carnage. Daveth, on the other hand, points a finger at it and shoots Alistair an accusing look. "Look! That's the group of soldier's I heard about! They went in and now look at them! They're dead!"

"Help!"

They all turn as one of the bloodied bodies moves and raises their hand.

"Well… he's not half as dead as he looks, is he?" Alistair quips, glancing at Daveth. Daveth scowls at him and Gilmore quickly jogs over to wounded man.

The man looks up at him, his face almost fully covered in dried blood. "Who...who are you?" He asks.

"Easy, my good man." Gilmore says. "We're Grey Warden recruits. What happened?"

The man clutches the wound on his stomach. "A band of darkspawn ambushed my scouting party." He frowns. "They...came out of the ground."

"Fuck that." Daveth mutters under his breath, his eyes furtively glancing around.

"Please…" The man begs. "Please help me. I need to get back to camp!"

"I don't know if we'll be able to save him." Jory frowns. "He looks pretty bad."

Alistair kneels down beside Gilmore. "How badly are you hurt? I have some bandages in my pack."

With some effort, the man groans as he rolls onto his back to expose the the deep gash across his abdomen. "Please." He begs, his lower lips trembling as he looks up at Alistair. "I don't want to die. Bandage me up and I should be able to make it back into camp to the infirmary."

Alistair looks at him for a moment before nodding. Reaching into his pack, he rifles around until he pulls a few rolled up bandages.

"Here." Gilmore says, holding out a gauntleted hand. "You hold him up and I will bandage him. I've done it many times on the battlefield."

Alistair hands the bandages to him and he and Jory lift up the man, wincing as he cries out in pain. Gilmore is surprisingly fast as he manages to secure both bandages before sitting back on his heels. "There. That should hopefully help you."

They help the man to his feet while Daveth shifts uneasily from one foot to the other.

"Thank you." The man breathes, looking at them. "Maker bless you." He takes a step and stumbles slightly. "I need to get out of here!"

"So do we." Daveth comments, stepping forward. "I'll take him."

Gilmore narrows his eyes. "You don't want to help. You just want to desert us like a coward."

Pulling out one of his knives Daveth holds it out at Gilmore's chest. "What did you just call me?" He hisses. "I dare you to say that again."

"That's enough!" Alistair bellows, handing the injured man to Jory before walking over. "Daveth, put the knife away."

The men stare each other down before Daveth scoffs and puts his knife back on his belt. "Whatever."

Turning from his fellow recruit, Gilmore walks over to the man being held up by Jory. "Do you think you can make it back on your own?"

The man glances between Gilmore, Alistair and Jory before finally nodding. "Yeah. I think so."

With some help from Jory, the man takes a few shaky steps before nodding for him to let go. Thanking the men once more, the man starts back up the trail which they came from.

Adjusting his pack, Alistair gives an acknowledging nod to both Jory and Gilmore before urging them onwards once more.


	28. Prayers

As soon as gate shut behind the guys, a weight settled on Ana's heart. She stared longingly at the palisade gate as Duncan placed his hand on her shoulder. He tried to think of something to reassure or comfort her but he couldn't think of anything. After everything she had already lost, it was normal for her to be afraid of losing one of her last ties to her old life. Much whined at her feet and he felt the guilt of sending Gilmore out like a piece of cold fat in his stomach. There's nothing you could do . He told himself. It is the custom to send recruits out into the wilds to collect the darkspawn blood for their Joining. Had it not been for Ana's situation, she would be out there with them .

Turning around, Ana sighs. "Excuse me." She mutters,motioning to Much to follow. The hound rises and Duncan watches as they walk away.

* * *

Rendon Howe tears a piece of flesh off his fish and puts it in his mouth while a bard plays a calming tune on their lute, off to the side. It had been days since he last heard of Ana's whereabouts. He had hoped that the spoiled brat had finally succumbed to the conditions she had been resigned to in her escape and was lying dead in the mud somewhere.

Castle Cousland was already on its way to being restored as he had furnishings and staff brought in from his home in Amaranthine. Admittedly, it felt strange to sleep in the same bed as his long-time friend and his wife but he had to remind himself that this is how it should have been all along.

Grabbing his goblet, he takes a long drink of the deep burgundy wine. For all their flaws, he had to admit that the Couslands knew how to choose their wine.

As he torn off another piece of fish, the great wooden doors at the end of the hall open and he looks up with a sneer at the servant rushing toward him.

"What is it?" He bellows. "I don't like being interrupted."

The lad's pale face flushes as he tries to catch his breath. "Forgive me, my lord. A message has come for you. I was told its urgent."

Howe raises a brow. "Oh? What is it?"  
The lad holds out a folded up parchment with a wax seal. Taking it from him, Howe squints down at the seal in the flickering candlelight before a grin splits across his face. He waves the messenger away and quickly breaks the seal before opening and reading it thrice over, he sets it down as he's hit by a wave of mixed emotions. Apparently, not only was Ana Cousland still alive but she had managed to make it there with the Warden-Commander. Most likely they had already blabbed about what he had done to the King.

He crinkles up the parchment as he ponders this. Perhaps this wasn't a bad thing? Perhaps Duncan was doing his job for him by having her join the Wardens. He had heard rumors about the Wardens and how their joining ritual could be fatal. Perhaps, if he's lucky, she'll perish during her joining or in the battle against the darkspawn? As long as she doesn't return with an army to claim her home, she was nothing more than an annoying gnat. Arising from his seat abruptly, the bard stops singing and Howe waves him away. "Leave me," He says, heading toward the doors at the back of the room. "I have work to do."

* * *

The chantry tent was devoid of people as Ana strode silently down the center of the rows of wooden pews flanking the aisle. Incenses were being burned to most likely purge the holy area of the scent that plagued most of the camp. Coming to stand before the giant Andraste statue at the front, Ana kneels before it, her eyes gazing above the lit brazier to the blank eyes carved in the marble. Clasping her hands together, she bows her head and begins to say a prayer.

"You have grieved as I have. You, who made worlds out of nothing. We are alike in sorrow, sculptor and clay, comforting each other in our art." She pauses and inhales a shaky breath before continuing. "Do not grieve for me, Maker of All. Though all others may forget You, Your name is etched into my very step. I will not forsake You, even if I forget myself."

Tears prickle her eyes and she tries to hold them at bay.

"Maker, though the darkness comes upon me, I shall embrace the Light. I shall weather the storm. I shall endure. What You have created, no one can tear asunder."

Off to the side, the Revered mother watches the young woman knelt before the statue of the Maker's bride, reciting a section of the Chant of Light. Quietly, she takes a seat and listens.

"Forgive those who have fallen and protect those who still follow your light. Protect them from harm, be it from friend or foe. Let the righteous be victorious and spread light to the creatures that dwell in the dark."

Smiling to herself, the revered mother rises from her seat and slowly walks over to the young woman.

"That was very good." She smiles. "You know the chant very well."

Ana's eyes snap open and she quickly jumps up to her feet before dipping into a curtsy.

"Forgive me, Mother." Ana mutters, wiping the tears away from her eyes as her cheeks burn with embarrassment. "I was unaware that anybody was in here."

"No need to apologize, my child." The older woman says. "Who taught you those verses?"

"My Mother." Ana replies, still not risking looking up at the woman. "She taught me when I was very young." Not that I appreciated such things at the time.

The Revered Mother nods as her eyes look the younger woman older. She's dressed like a peasant but….those features, her mannerisms and the way she holds herself don't sounds like a noble woman.

Noting Ana's solemn expression, she frowns. "What grieves you, child? Is it the war?"

Risking a look at the Revered mother, Ana bites her lip as she debates whether or not to unburden herself of everything that weighs her down. "Not entirely. I worry about my betrothed who has gone out into the Korcari Wilds. I've heard terrible things about what lurks in the wilds and I fear the worse."

Taking Ana's hand, the Revered Mother leads her over to a pew and they sit down together. "I can see why you are concerned." She says softly with a nod. "The Wilds are indeed a dangerous place and these are dangerous times, my dear. You did the right thing coming here. If anybody could bring your young man home, it's the Maker and his bride."

Reaching her hand up, she gently traces the eye of the Maker on Ana's bowed forehead and mutters a short prayer before lifting Ana chin so she can look at her.

"Bless you, dear child. If you wish, I will also say a prayer for his safe return."

Relieved tears break free of her waterline and she wipes them away with her sleeve. "Thank you, Revered Mother. That is very kind of you." Grabbing the Mother's hands, she lowers her head to them and kisses them before smiling. Rising from her seat, she calls to Much who was busy sniffing around the little shrine at the corner of the tent. Hearing his mistress call him, he quickly raises his head and bounds after her.


	29. I'm Not A Coward But

Rising from his bed, Cailan calls for his valet to fetch him warm water to wash. He groans as he stretches and takes a seat at the ornate, carved wood table that was brought in as a gift from his paramour. He begins to reach for the silverite pitcher of wine that was brought to his tent each morning when he hears a familiar, feminine voice call out somewhere outside of his tent. Feeling interest stirring within his loins, he rises and walks over to the tent flap and peeks through at the young Cousland woman walking across the camp with a russet colored mabari following nearby. The morning chill seeps through the flaps and he feels it on his exposed torso. She is quite a lovely young creature. He thinks to himself. Those luminescent blue eyes, full lips, pert breasts and plump little ass…

One of this guards finally takes notice of him peeking through the canvas and immediately straightens. "Your Majesty." He greets.

Cailan's eyes remain on Ana as she walks, his eyes transfixed on the swaying of her hips.

The guard shoots a nervous glance to his companion on the other side who shrugs. "Majesty?"

Glancing at the man, Cailan smirks. "Call for my steward."

Ducking back inside the warmth of his tent, he busies himself with preparing a couple glasses of wine until his steward enters. He pivots and his steward dips into a low bow. "You summoned me, Majesty?"

"I did." Cailan says, picking up his wine and taking a sip. "Send a message to the General. I know that he has been impatient to discuss matters about our allies. I plan to follow in my father's footsteps and form the greatest army ever seen in all of Thedas." He smiles. "Not since my father took up the throne after dispatching of the usurper Meghre has anybody seen such numbers. I plan to bring together elves, dwarves and humans alike alongside the famous Grey Wardens. It'll be glorious!"

His steward watched him with a flat expression. General Loghain always spoke about the King's naive ambition and how little Cailan resembled his old friend. Even know, when Cailan talked about the battle that was to come, he spoke about it as a child would tell his nanny about the imaginary monsters and battles he fought while playing outside. It seemed as though the lad either ignored the true vision of war or that he simply ignored it.

"Do you wish me to summon him?" He asks. "I believe he's currently breaking his fast in his tent and speaking with his lieutenants."

Cailan wrinkles his nose at this suggestion. "Ugh, no. I can't handle having that old grouch lecturing me before I've had a chance to eat. Just send him a message that we shall meet later. For now I want to speak with the Warden-Commander. It's his ideas I most wish to hear."

The steward bows. "Very well, Majesty." He mutters. "Anything else?"

Cailan waves him off and he begins to back up toward the tent entrance when he holds up his hand. "Actually, tell my chefs that I'm ready to eat and to make enough for Duncan as well."

As his steward dismisses himself and disappears from the tent, he smiles to himself.

* * *

Ser Jory twitches nervous, his head snapping in the direction of every little sound. Taking notice, Gilmore places a hand on the old knight's arm which makes him jump. He quickly apologizes.

"Are you alright?" He asks with a frown.

Jory says nothing for a moment before shaking his head. "Did you not hear what that man said?" He whispers. "An entire patrol of seasoned men killed by darkspawn."

"There's no need to worry, good man. As long as we're careful-"

Jory shakes his head violently. " soldiers were careful and look what happened to them! They were overwhelmed."

Alistair hears this and glances over. "Everything alright over there?"

Jory stops which forces the others to stop as well. "No. I'm no coward or anything but I think Daveth was right. We should head back. It's too dangerous."

"Told you." Daveth says willfully as he crosses his arms over his chest. "This is madness!"

Alistair sighs. "I understand your concern but I can assure you that we are not in danger of walking into a horde of darkspawn."

"How do you know?" Daveth sneers.

"Who cares how he knows?" Gilmore interjects. "Alistair is the Warden here and has done this many times." He shrugs. "Besides, our test is to overcome the dangers we face out here."

Jory frowns. "That's true, I guess."

"Know this, Ser Jory." Alistair says. "All Grey Warden can sense the darkspawn. No matter their cunning, they won't take us by surprise. That's the reason that I'm out here with you."

Daveth scoffs. "You see, Ser knight? We might die, but at least we'll be warned about it first!"

The other two men glare at him and Jory frowns.

"I don't know why but that's actually somewhat reassuring."

Daveth gives the other two men a cocky grin.

"Don't grin just yet, Daveth." Alistair says. "While I'm here, that doesn't mean this will be easy." Sighing, he readjusts his pack. "Let's just get a move on."


	30. This Wasn't Supposed To Happen This Way

Passing the King and General Loghain's tents, Ana starts away in search of Hawke. Surely if anybody could possibly put her mind at ease at this time, it would be him. There was just something about him that brightened her day and made her worries seem smaller than they actually were.

Towering walls and arches cast shadows across the ruins and the wind that whipped through the space seemed colder than before. Pulling her cloak around her, she presses forward when Much suddenly stops. Stopping, her eyes follow the shadows he's staring into and she feels a chill run up her spine as he emits a low growl. Kneeling beside him, she holds onto him and tries to calm him with scratches and soothing words but he didn't move.

"What's wrong, boy?" She asks as his ears flatten against his head and he bares his teeth.

Within moments, she hears a few voices coming closer and reaches down to her belt for her mother's dagger. Her heart beats loudly in her chest as the figures emerge from the shadows. Immediately, she recognizes the two Wardens that first greeted her when she arrived and she rises to her feet. Upon seeing her, the blonde one smirks. "Well, well. Would you look at this, Roy. It seems out little princess is lost."

Roy snickers behind him and Ana raises her chin. "I'm not lost. I'm meeting with my friend. Now if you'll excuse me…" She tries to walk around them but Daniel steps into her path. She tries to move to his other side and is once more blocked."Let. Me. Through."

"Or what?" He sneers. "You'll tell the King? I've told you before, he won't help you."

Terror seeps in but she keeps her expression flat. "I know that. I'll tell your Warden-Commander. I know he doesn't mind punishing Wardens. I doubt he would like it if he heard that you were harassing his newest recruit."

Daniel lets out a bark of laughter. "You?" Reaching out, he strokes her cheek with his finger which makes her skin crawl. "What a waste. Beauty like yours isn't very common; I'd had to see your beautiful featured destroyed by ugly scars and deteriorating."

Scowling, she flinches away from his touch and Much growls. "Don't touch me." She hisses.

Daniel scoffs. "I do like my women to have some fight in them. My offer to join me in my tent later still stands."

"Eat shit." Ana spits.

Violently, he grabs her arm and she lets out a surprised pained cry which sets Much off. He barks and nips at the man before Daniel gets mad. "Fuck off, mutt!" He bellows, kicking Much hard and sending him back into the crumbling wall where he slumps down motionless.

"Much!" Ana cries, but Daniel tightens his grip on her arm and swings her around to face him.

"No. I imagine a woman like you is far more naughty than you let off. You hide behind your pretty things and title but I just know that there's a freak in there just begging to come out. Perhaps you'd like for Roy and I to double team you." As he says this, Roy grins while Daniel pulls her close. She feels his warm breath on her ear. "I bet you'll like that, wouldn't you? Having both your tight little holes fucked at once?"

Turning his head, he forcibly presses his lips against hers before flinching away as she bites his lip. She tastes the blood she drew on her lips and he touches his hand to his lip and looks down.

"You little bitch!" He exclaims, backhanding her. She tastes her own blood from her split lip as she falls to the ground, her mother's dagger falling from her hand. Much whines nearby and Ana weakly reaches out for the dagger but Daniel spots it first and picks it up. He turns it over in the light before nodding.

"This is quite the little weapon you have there, my lady." He grins, mockingly. "I could use a nice little dagger like this."

"No! That's mine!" Ana cries, reaching up for it only to be silenced with a hard kick to the side. She doubles over coughing as she hears Daniel and Roy laugh before she recieves a couple more kicks from each of them.

"We need to go but just know that this," He says, motioning between them, "isn't over."

Putting the dagger in his belt, the two men walk away and the tears she was trying to hold back break loose and begin to cascade down her cheeks. Much whines once more she attempts to move closer to him, trying her best to ignore her pain to no avail. Reaching him, she sucks in a shaky breath through her teeth as she manages to place a hand on his snout. His eyes move to meet hers with a soft whine. "I know." She soothes. "I'm so sorry, boy."

Placing his head on her hand, he weakly licks her which makes her want to cry even more.

* * *

As the men draw further and further into the swamp, the temperature begins to drop and a damp chill falls over them. Thick fog masks the area around the path in all directions and their breath becomes visible before them.

"I don't like this." Daveth comments, his teeth audibly chattering as he pulls his cloak closer. A fine mist had begun to fall which only added to the gloom.

Alistair pauses as he listens to the low humming at the back of his mind. We're getting close .

Seeing a patch of flowers barely peeking through the fog nearby, he walks over and kneels beside them and takes on in his hand.

"We're in the middle of the fucking swamp and he wants to pick fucking flowers?" Daveth hisses, pacing around impatiently.

Alistair rolls his eyes and begins to pick them and places them in his pack before rising. "The kennel master has been requesting these flowers, white with a red center, to help the mabaris that are sick after getting bit by darkspawn." Casually, he reaches for his sword and Daveth backs away. "Be on your guard. I sense darkspawn nearby."

Immediately, everyone draws their weapons and Daveth glances around as they continue. Before long, they come across detached and decomposing body parts strewn around the grass and some pieces floating in the stagnant swamp water. Gilmore finds a whole body lying face down in the water, it's black robes torn to reveal deep gashes.

"Maker's breath." Daveth exclaims. Alistair and the other wince.

"Poor soul." Jory mutters.

Spotting something sticking out of the pocket of the corpse's robes, Gilmore starts toward it. Daveth calls to him but he ignores him and crouches down to examine the gashes. If it wasn't the fatal wounds that killed him, it was for sure drowning. Muttering a prayer under his breath before reaching into the man's pocket to retrieve the rolled up piece of parchment. He opens it and reads it.

"What is it?" Jory calls to him. Rising, he walks over and hands the parchment to Alistair. "It's the man's will. It looks like he wrote it before he passed on."

"What does it say?" Jory asks Alistair.

"He talks about a sealed box he hid. He wants it to be brought to Redcliffe and given to his wife."

Daveth scoffs. "Yeah, like that's going to happen. With our luck, most of us will die in the battle."

Rolling the parchment up, he memorizes the spot that's stated and puts it in his pack. "Maybe." He mutters and starts walking once more.

The others exchange glances and begin to follow when they come across a large fallen tree that forms a makeshift bridge between the hills. The party stops as they see the bodies strung up, creaking as they swing in the breeze. Chills shiver down Gilmore and Alistair's spines as the look at it. Jory makes the sign of the Maker. "Poor souls."

The buzzing in Alistair's head grows louder as they past the hanged men until a loud shriek cuts through the eerie gloom. The recruits look around frantically as Alistair stands perfectly still, his sword and shield ready as he tries to gauge what type of darkspawn they're dealing with.  
"Show yourselves, you bastards!" Daveth bellows, turning around with his knives drawn.

An ear-splitting scream cuts through the silence like a knife as a tall, agile creature with blades attached to its arms runs out of the fog at Daveth while two dwarf-like figures with spiked armor and razor sharp teeth run toward the others with a taller, grey creature in tow.

Daveth rolls to the side as the shriek swings it's blade down at him before he lashes out with his knives. In his panicked state, he misses and the creature's other arm arcs outward and the tip of its blade slices at the front of the thief's leather armor.

Standing back to back with Ser Jory, Gilmore slices at the genlock that rushes toward him and catches it just under it's bony chin. Black ichor spurts from it as it rages and swings the flair around it's head before letting it loose. Gilmore ducks and feels the spikes touch his hair and he jabs his sword outwards into the creature's arm. It howls and swiftly moves the rapidly in a figure-eight motion before once more throwing it at the knight. The ball hits Gilmore's arm as the Hurlock's sword glances off Alistair's shield and scratches his cheek and he cries out before swinging outward. The blade sinks deep into the pale flesh as ichor spurts out and covers the front of his armor before the creature falls.

"Careful!" Alistair yells, bashing his shield ito the hurlock and sending it toppling back into the swamp water. "Darkspawn blood is tainted. Don't let it get into open wounds or-"

Before he can finish, the hurlock rises from the stagnant pool and lunges at him, tackling him to the ground. His shield gets knocked away and he raises his sword to block the incoming strike. Rancid breath assaults his nose as the hurlock pushes against his sword, it's sharp teeth inches from his face as it screeches. With all his might, he manages to push it away from his face when a blade falls from above and takes off the creatures head. The head falls and hits Alistair's breastplate before rolling off and onto the muddy ground. He winces as darkspawn blood spays him in the face before the lifeless body topples onto him. Trying not to open his mouth, he pushes it off and looks up at the hand offered to him. Taking it, he allows Gilmore to help him to his feet before Gilmore quickly turns around to help Daveth as he barely manages to parry the lightning quick swipes, the metal sparking as it hits his knives. The next strike flicks the small blade from Daveth's hand before the second strike slices up his arm. He cries out but the shriek continues its onslaught, slicing through the leather and piecing the flesh beneath.

Ser Jory takes down the genlock before him and swivels at the sound of screams nearby as the shriek runs Daveth through, his eyes widening as the thief coughs up blood before slumping to the ground.

"Daveth!" He calls out as he starts running toward the creature. Before he can get to it, Alistair appears with his shield raised. The young Warden cries out as he swings his sword down in a lethal arc, taking off one of the shriek's bladed arms just below the elbow. Blood spurts out from the wound and it's shrieks make his ears feel like they're going to bleed. Rushing up, Jory swipes takes off the other arm before both Gilmore and Alistair strike at once. Alistair's blade chops the creature's head off making the shrieks stop as Gilmore's sword gets thrust through its chest before he kicks it off. The three men look down at the creature as its body convulses while blood pours out if it and mixes with the mud.

A strangled cough nearby grabs the men's attention and they quickly sheath their weapons and run over to Daveth.

"Bloody…. Fucking hell." He sputters. "This isn't…. How I wanted to go."

His brows furrowed, Jory looks up at Alistair. "Surely you have more bandages? You can bandage him up and we can carry him back to camp…"

Alistair shakes his head solemnly. "It's too late." He motions with his chin to the deep gash in the man's leathers, reaching down to pull the torn fabric to reveal the already darkening and brined flesh. "He's already been tainted. There's nothing we can do."

Kneeling beside the man, Gilmore touches Daveth's hand. "Is there anything you want to say? Do you need us to inform your family?"

Daveth coughs up blood once more as he shakes his head. "I have no family." He mutters. "None that would care at least."

Kneeling beside Gilmore, Alistair sets his sword aside and clasps his hands together which the other two follow suit as they all bow their heads. Alistair says a small prayer he learned while with the Templars and, when they all raise their heads once more, Daveth is gone.

"This is madness." Jory frowns as Gilmore shuts Daveth's eyes. "We should head back before these abominations take more of us."

Taking his sword from the ground, Alistair wipes the mixture of blood and ichor on his sleeve before he rises and sheathes it. "No. We're almost to the Warden archive. It would be foolish to head back now." He casts a sympathetic look at the dead recruit. "It's unfortunate that this happened but sometimes it cannot be helped."

Jory's brows furrow as he looks at the Junior Warden as if he's gone mad. "Sometimes it cannot be helped?"" He sneers. "Is that really all you have to say? Do you not care?"

Reaching into his pack, Alistair grabs Ana's vial and kneels down to fill it before capping it and placing it back in his pack. "While I doubt these will be the only darkspawn we encounter, I recommend filling your vial now."

"And what about him?" Jory asks, gesturing to Daveth's body. "Thief or not, he still at least deserves to be properly put to rest." He glances around but before Alistair can reply, Gilmore steps forward and lays a hand on the knight's shoulder.

"Jory, I know that you're in shock right now and want to set things right but you know as well as I that that is not wise. Look around." He motions around them. "Even if a fire wouldn't call too much attention to us, where would we make the pyre? Everything is too wet."

Jory nods sadly. "You're right." He mutters, glancing over at Alistair. "Forgive me, Warden. Let's carry on."


	31. Damsel In Distress

Finishing his letter, Duncan puts the quill back in the ink pot and leans back. He rubs his tired eyes. For majority of the morning, Loghain had him writing out reports on the Wardens for his next meeting with the King. He was hardly surprised when Cailan sent a messenger mid-way through to have him come dine with him but, regardless of him being a king, Duncan had no desire to spend the next couple precious hours discussing fairy stories and famed battles. He believed that his time would be much better spent ensuring his charges were fully equiped with armor and weapons or overseeing the training for the upcoming battle.

He sighs as he slumps back in his chair and runs a hand over his face. For a moment, his tired mind could conjure nothing more than Ana's distraught face as she watched the gates closed behind her lover. He frowns.

Rising from his seat, his back and joints crack making him wince; Not from pain but rather the reminder of his age. Striding over to the entrance flaps, he pulls them aside and squints at the brightness that meets him. The two guards on either side suddenly straightened as their eyes widened in alarm as the sight of Duncan snaps them awake. They wait as Duncan inhales deeply as his dark eyes move over the scene before him before he sighs. He turns to the young man to his right.

"Has Ana come by in the past few hours?" He asks. The lads exchange a glance before the right one shakes his head.

"No, Sir. We haven't seen her since she left the tent early this morning."

Duncan frowns at this news but he tries not to allow the worry to show on his face, just in case. Perhaps she's still in the chantry . He tells himself. With a brisk nod, he brushes past them and starts off toward the chantry tent.

* * *

Carver walks beside his older brother with disdainful look as he hugs the bundle of firewood they collected after their patrol. Nate strides proudly, his leather armor stained with the blood of a few deserters who thought it would be a good idea to ambush them.

"Must you always sulk?" Nate asks teasingly. He shoots his little brother grin before rustling his hair with only annoys him more.

"Not if you would also carry firewood." He mutters. "It's your campsite too after all."

Nate ignores this little barb with a shrug. "We had a deal. I hunt, you carry. I promised mother I would look after you and that's what I'm doing. I'm providing food for you."

Carver rolls his eyes and continues out a few yards before noticing Nate is no longer with him. Stopping, he turns around to see Nate with a confused expression as he pats himself down.

"What are you doing?"

Nate's eyes meet his. "Go on ahead and get the fire started. I think I left my knife in the saddlebag of my horse."

"Forget it. You can just use mine."

Nate shakes his head as he waves him off. "Mine is better. Go on. I'll be there in a few."

Before Carver could argue, Nate swivels around and starts running back toward the stables. Carver lets out an exasperated sigh and continues his way towards camp. Heading away from the main camp, Carver dodges the broken pillars and crumbled arches before something catches his attention at the corner of his eye. Stopping, his brows furrow as he catches sight of what looks like the tip of a boot sticking out from behind a wall. Glancing around, he slowly inches toward it. He clears his throat before speaking. "Hello?"

A weak whine sounds and he once more stops in his tracks. Could that be a darkspawn? He thought to himself, making a chill run down his spine. He had never personally seen one but he had heard stories from the Wardens about the creatures with their milk-white eyes, gaping mouths filled with razor sharp teeth and spiked armor. He was not looking forward to seeing them in battle.

Once more he glances around before inching forward. Before he can call out for a response, another weak whine sounds. Swallowing, he quietly sets the firewood down and reaches a hand toward his sword, cursing inwardly as it shakes. He slowly inches around the wall, his heart pounding loudly in his chest while his muscles tense in preparation to fight. Clearing the wall, His hand drops as his brows furrowed at the woman passed out near a mabari. The hound lifts its head from it's unconscious owner to look at him, emitting another whine.

"Ana?" He gasps, his brows jumping up. Kneeling beside her, he shoots Much a wary glance before leaning down to listen for breathing. Relief surges through him and he places a hand on her shoulder and gently pushes her onto her back. Her eyes are closed and her short hair covers half her face. He brushes her hair away and gently shakes her shoulder. "Ana." He hisses. "Wake up!"

With no response, he begins to panic. Looking at her, he sees some bruising and a couple cuts beneath the mud caked on her arms and in her hair. Jumping up, he looks around him for something to use to help her but finds nothing. Nate! He'll be able to help!

"Stay here." He tells the dog. "Watch over her. I'll get help."

Jumping back up, he quickly runs back the way he came, his gaze searching the area for his brother when he practically collides with him.

"Dammit Carver!" Nate exclaims as one of the tankards from his hand falls from his hand and spills into the mud. He looks down at it with grief before taking a drink of the other. "That one is yours, by the way."

Carver frantically waves his brother's comment away. "Who cares about that! I need your help."  
Nate raises a brow. "If this is about lighting the campfire because you can't do it…"

Carver shakes his head. "No. It's Ana. She's passed out and is bruised and bleeding."

Together, they rush back to where Much and Ana are lying near the wall and Nate pushes his tankard to his brother as he drops down to his knees beside her. Just as Carver did, he leans down to listen for her breathing before nodding. "Good. She's still breathing." Reaching out, he touches are hand which is already clammy and cold. He frowns. "She's freezing. Let's get her back to our camp so she can warm up and I can get a better look at her injuries."

Scooping her up, her head lops to the side and rests against his chest as he adjusts her. He glances over to the pale Carver standing nearby with his tankard. "Go get the fire started. I'll be there in a moment."

Carver doesn't move as he looks at Ana's lifeless body. "Carver!" Nate hisses. "Go!"

Nodding, Carver begins to pick up the wood he previously dropped as Nate turns to look at Much. He whistles to get his attention and motions with his chin toward his camp.

"Come on, Much."

Much whines as he gets up, favoring one of his front paws as he limps after Nate.


	32. Why Does It Always Have to Be Spiders?

The three men tread deeper into the recesses of the Wilds, each of them anxiously looking out for signs of darkspawn or any of the other many creatures that were rumored to reside in the freezing swamp. Before long, Alistair stops and points up ahead at the leaning peaks of a building that rise up from the treetops. "There's the archive. We're almost there." He pauses as his senses probe his surroundings for signs of darkspawn. Once sure it's clear, he carefully removes his pack. "Let's rest for a bit. We should be safe here."

It seemed like they had been wandering around the foul smelling mists for days rather than hours. Darkspawn blood and ichor coated the front of each man's armor but neither recruit saw the stagnant pools around them to be a viable option to clean themselves off.

"Would it be safe enough to make a fire?" Gilmore asks, the dampness of their surroundings seeping into his thick tunic underneath his plate armor. He tries and fails to not visibly shiver which Alistair takes notice of and frowns.

"How?" Jory walks over to them carrying a medium sized log covered with moss. Stopping feet away, he drops it with a soft thud as it hits the mud. "Everything in here is far too damp to light."

As he says this, Alistair walks over to a nearby tree and snaps a stick off before removing a gauntlet to feel it. "It's a bit damp from the mist but it could work." Putting his gauntlet back on, he reaches for the dagger on his belt and quickly scrapes the top bark off it before holding it up with a grin. "There. Not perfect but it works."

It takes a little bit of convincing but Alistair finally convinces Jory to search the perimeter for sticks while Alistair strips the small pile he collected while Gilmore kneels and begins to set them up for lighting. Standing alone with the knight, Alistair's cheeks burn as his mind is once more brought to what he had seen in the man's tent. Being close in age yet still inexperienced, his mind burned with questions regarding his relationship with their fellow recruit. He clears his throat which catches Gilmore's attention. "So...uh, Ser Gilmore-" Alistair begins. Roderick looks up at him with a smile.

"Yes, Alistair?" He asks, "You can just call me Roderick, by the way. I'm no longer a knight."

"Right," Alistair says with a self-conscious laugh. "Roderick, tell me a little about yourself. Unlike with the others, we haven't had the chance to speak much with one another."

Roderick nods. "What do you want to know?"

How long have you been sleeping with Ana? "Are you from Highever like Ana?"Alistair asks.

"No. I'm from a small bannorn near Highever." He says, sitting back on his heels. "It's a small place that I doubt you've heard of. Not many people have." He chuckles. "My father fought for Teyrn Cousland and in return for his service, he was invited to send me to Castle Cousland when I was 6 years old to be a squire."

"Is that how you met Ana?" Alistair blurts out, only to feel his face burn as Roderick's smile widens.

"Yes. We've known each other for most our lives. We basically grew up together." He pauses for a moment, his smile faltering for a moment. "Highever was my home for the longest time."

"I guess that would explain why you two seem so close."

Jory returns with a small bundle of sticks and sets them down beside Alistair. He thanks him and motions for the older knight to sit beside him but instead he walks over to the log he dropped earlier and flops down. He shoots Alistair a rueful smile as the lad raises a brow. "Forgive me. I would have accepted your offer but I'm afraid that if I sat directly on the ground, I would not be able to get back up!"

The other two men laugh.

"Just try not to rust like that." Roderick quips, earning a stick to be thrown at him. He laughs as the stick hits his breastplate and falls to the ground noiselessly.

"Watch it youngster." Jory chuckles.

Turning back to Alistair, Roderick smiles. "Back to what we were discussing, you could say that. Early on we didn't see each other too often. I was usually being tutored alongside her brother, Fergus. He and I have fought together along his father's side a few times."

Jory's brows crumble in confusion. "Whose brother?"

"Ana's."

Jory's brows shoot up. "Ana is Teyrn Cousland's daughter?" He breathes before shaking his head in disbelief. "Maker's breath… I had no idea!"

The other two men exchange a wary glance. "Not many people know who she is and it's prefered it keep it that way." Roderick says, somberly. "As I'm sure you're aware, Ser Jory, these are dark times we're living in."

Jory salutes him with a nod. "I understand. You need not worry about me, Ser. I have no quarrels with Lady Ana or her family. I will take her secret to my grave."

"Thank you. I'm sure she will be very grateful to you, Ser Jory."

The conversation begins to die down as Roderick finishes building the fire. Alistair digs into his pack to retrieve the pouch of dry tinder and his flint and hands it to Roderick to start. As they wait for him to ignite the tinder, Alistair and Jory shiver from where they sit.

"If you didn't see each other much growing up, how are you two so close now?" Alistair asks, attempting to distract himself from the chill. Roderick continues his efforts before Jory offers his aid and they switch places. He shrugs.

"A couple years ago, Teryn Cousland was impressed with my skills in training and because she and I get along well enough, he appointed me as her personal guard. I've spent almost every day with her since."

With the older man's help,they finally get a small fire going and quickly circle in close for warmth. Moments pass as each man focuses on warming themselves before Roderick's gaze gifts to Alistair. From where he sat, the fire mad the lad's usual hazel eyes look like a dark amber.

"While I know she's far too proud to say it herself, I'll thank you on Ana's behalf, Alistair." He says, catching him off guard. His eyes widen before he takes on a puzzled expression.

"Huh?"

Gilmore grins. "I know Ana can be a bit…. difficult at times and I'm grateful that you've been so kind to her. I'm not excusing her behavior but the past few weeks have definitely been tough for her. I'm glad that you've gone out of your way to help her."

"You're…thanking me? " Alistair asks. His brows crease as he looks down into the flames. "That's a new one." He mutters.

Feeling the man's gaze still on him, he awkwardly clears his throat. "Um...you're welcome….I guess. It's really been Duncan's idea."

"Even so, thank you."

In an attempt to feel less awkward about showing such keen interest in Roderick's relationship with Ana, Alistair quickly changes the subject to predictions for the war. The men warm themselves by the fire for a while before Roderick stomps out the flames with his armored boot. Once the light is snuffed out, they're thrown into the darkness and Alistair curses under his breath for letting the break run on for too long. While it may only be around midday, the thickness of the forest canopy blocked out almost all of the late summer light. Only small shafts of light managed to penetrate through but they were far and between; Not nearly enough to light one's way.

"Well, that wasn't the smartest idea we've had." Alistair quips.

"Great. Now we can't see!" Jory's voice rings out, his anxious pacing heard as his boots slap the mud.

"There's no need to panic. I have something….here in my bag." Alistair's voice trails off as he rummages in his pack for a couple moments. Within moments, he pulls a glowing amber-colored stone the size of a man's palm from his pack and holds it up. It brightens enough to to illuminate all three men and the trees surrounding them, basking them all in a warm golden light. Alistair grins. "There. That's better."

Roderick returns the Warden's smile but Jory eyes the stone with suspicion. "What is that?" He asks.

Before Alistair has a chance to open his mouth, Roderick replies for him. "It's an ember stone from Orzammar, isn't it?"

Alistair's brows raise. "Uh, yes it is. How did you-?"

"There was a dwarven merchant selling one in Highever last year. "

Jory's brows furrow. "An ember what?"

Roderick turns to him. "An ember stone. Typically they're stones that dwarves use while mining or travelling the Deep Roads. The stone's brightness adjusts to its surroundings."

"But it's not magic." Alistair blurts out. "I know that's weird but it's not. I have no idea how it works per say but it's helpful in cases like this." He motions for them to start toward the archive and Roderick falls into line beside him.

"Forgive me for prying but how did you get your hands on one? Aside from that merchant, I've heard it's a well-kept secret in Orzammar about where they're found, making them incredibly rare to find on the surface."

Alistair shrugs as he holds the stone higher and tries to trace the route to the Archive from the map Duncan showed him beforehand in his mind. "Duncan gave it to me from the last time he was in Orzammar looking for recruits. How he actually acquired one, I'm not entirely sure. I find it better not to ask."

As the men drew closer to the ruined archive, the trees begin to break up, letting the afternoon light filter through. Roderick gasps as they finally arrive. The large steeple they spotted a while back now stood up tall in all its glory. The afternoon light glints off the partially rusted frames of the windows. The entire building leaning to one side as the swamp worked to reclaim its space, moss and vines wrapping around the old stone. All three stop before it and take in the scene.

The place had definitely seen better days as the main outer walls had long since crumbled, opening up to a courtyard and what looks to be an old stable. The old roof had since caved in leaving the dividing walls of the stalls either splintered or leaning to one side or the other.

Roderick steps forward to touch the cold stone of one of the crumbled walls, looking up at the remaining structure. "I can only imagine what this place must of looked like in its prime. It's unfortunate that now the swamp as claimed it as its own."

Jory looks around speechlessly while Alistair nods. "It's quite the sight, isn't it?"

Roderick nods in agreement. Jory, who seemed to snap out of trance, turned to look at them. "So, where are these scrolls that we're supposed to retrieve?" He asks. "Somehow I doubt that the Wardens would have just had them just lying out and about in the open."

Alistair's brows crease as motions toward the giant doors ahead of them. "According to Duncan's map, it should be near the back."

"Of course it would be." Jory mutters miserably. Whether Alistair didn't hear him or just ignored it, he motions for them to follows. He starts toward the towering wooden doors, the metal accents rusting and the wood covered in thick grime and the ember stone off to Roderick, he places his hands on the door and pushes. After a few moments of nothing happening, he takes a step back before motioning to them. "Here. Help me with this."

With some help from the other two, they manage to push one of the doors about halfway before the rusted hinges give way and falls inward with all three men still holding on. The door makes a loud crash as it collides with the stone floor, paired with a loud splash from the inch of water at the entrance and clash of the men's plate armor. As they fell, Alistair's ember stone flies from Roderick's hand, landing yards away, the light and dimming as it rolls before stopping in the water.

"Well, that's definitely one way to get in." Roderick mutters, clambering back to his feet. He stumbles slightly as his blood rushes to his head and almost topples over Alistair.

"Yeah... not exactly one of my prefered methods." Alistair retorts. He and Jory manage to get back to their feet before he turns around in search of his stone.

"Um… Warden?" Jory says nervously.

"One moment." He says, turning around once more, his brows furrowed. "Where is that bugger? Hopefully it didn't break."

Roderick sees it in the distance and retrieves it before handing it back. "It's not broken." He states, pointing down the corridor. Turning, Alistair's brows crease as he notices what Jory was nervous about; at the end of the long dark corridor, two metal braziers stand upright and lit.

"Somebody must already be here." Jory hisses, reaching for his sword. "Can darkspawn light torches?"

Alistair looks around them as his senses probe for existence of the taint. "Some have the ability but they're rarely seen above ground. Most of them reside in the deep roads but have been known to find their way to the surface through old entrances." Finding what he's looking for, he walks over to the side and pulls an old wooden torch from its holder. "Find torches we can light at the braziers," he instructs, "We'll need to keep an eye out. Who knows what can be lying in wait for us."

He waits as the other two find torches of their own before they walk over to the braziers and light them. Ahead of them, a portion of the ceiling chooses that moment to break free and crashes to the floor, some pieces breaking away from the bigger parts and rolling down the small set of stairs to where a giant pedestal sits. The piece that broke off the ceiling brings in a nice stream of light that perfectly illuminates the huge bronze griffin statue at the center of what looks to be a very big chamber. All three look up at the statue in awe.

Alistair snaps himself out of his trance before looking around to determine the direction of the chamber that Duncan said they'd find their treaties.

"I wonder why this place was abandoned." Roderick mutters from beside him. He casts a glance at the Warden. "Why are the scrolls so important anyways? Imagine Duncan wouldn't send us out here to retrieve something as useless as a kidney pie recipe or something."

"You obviously have underestimated Duncan's love of kidney pie." Alistair chuckles. Earning a stern look from the older knight, he nervously clears his throat. "They're treaties. They were signed long ago by leaders of different factions promising to aid the Grey Wardens during a blight." He shrugs. " With the difficulties we've had so far, Duncan believes that some factions need to be reminded of their promise."

He motions for the other two to follow him as he starts down a long corridor.

The old stained glass windows that once depicted the lives and deeds of the Wardens since the First Blight were now covered in grime and cracked or broken in places, rendering them nearly unrecognizable. The three of them trudge carefully through the wet corridor, their boots kicking up the dirt and grime in the water that had begun to settle on the long silver and blue carpets that stretched down the entire hall. Halfway through, a torn tapestry hangs from a rusted bar running through the stone archway. Alistair pushes it aside and squints at the darkness ahead. A damp chill had fallen over them as they walked deeper into the ruin, the only sounds being their breathing, their boots splashing in the water and the echo of water dripping somewhere nearby.

"At the end of this hall, it should open up to a big chamber." Alistair whispers, moving his torch from side to side in search of danger. "According to Duncan's map, there's a large study in one of the chambers that leads off to the Chamberlain of the Grey's quarters and a storage room. The treaties should be in the storage room."

As he says, as they reach the end of the long corridor, it opens up to a chamber that is a lot more flooded than the hallway. Alistair carefully steps forward and immediately falls into the pool of dark water that reaches up to his waist. In his surprise, he manages to drop his torch which immediately extinguishes. He curses under his breath before turning to the recruits. "Jory, hand me your torch."

Jory's eyes widen. "Surely that would be unwise. As the person bringing up the rear, only the front and back people should have torches...don't you think?"

Annoyed with the chill seeping into his clothing layers beneath his armor, Alistair sighs. "Whatever. Gilmore-"

Before he can finish, Roderick kneels down and holds his torch out. "Here."

Taking it, he quickly scans around him before motioning for him. "Careful. The floor is sunken in so it's a steep drop."

Motioning a nervous looking Jory forward, Roderick sits down on the edge and scooches his way before plunging into the water. Involuntarily, a surprised sound escapes as his body is enveloped in freezing water. Luckily, since he and Alistair are close in height, the water only reaches his waist.

"O-okay, Jory." Roderick says, holding out his hand as his teeth begin to chatter. "Hand me the torch so you can get in."

Jory's face pales in the light of his torch but he nods. As he jumps in, he yelps in surprise before Roderick hands him back his torch.

The men follow Alistair through the gloom, the cold encasing them becoming more noticeable over time. Giant shelves of rotting wood line the first chamber along with some broken tables topped with metal dishes and stacks of books littering the surface that barely sticks out of the water.

"We're getting close." Alistair says, his torch moving from one direction to the next as he looks for telltale signs of where they're going. "The bedchamber should be close."

Rounding a group of bookcases, the floor begins to slant upwards to a leveled area once more. Reaching the top, Alistair holds his torch out to illuminate the stone steps leading down into the darkness. His brows draw together. Was there a staircase on the map? He tries to remember.

"Is it down there?" Roderick asks. Leaning forward slightly in hopes of seeing something in the neverending darkness. "The bedchamber?"

"Uh…" Alistair's cheeks burn as he turns to look around for any indication of there being another hallway or a door nearby. Seeing no other path, he shrugs. "It should be."

"You're not sure?" Jory asks. "Didn't Duncan give you the map?"

"This is the only way I see." Alistair replies, trying to sound in control and failing. "Duncan's map is very old and he didn't want anything to happen to it in the field."

Feeling the distrust radiating from the old knight, he starts down the steps, being sure to pay attention to his senses and their surroundings. Halfway down, a shadow passes over the light from one of the torches.

"What was that?" Jory suddenly says, his torch moving quickly as he looks around them. Alistair's heart begins to pound in his chest as he looks up and spots the cobwebs. Shit. Unsheathing his sword, he casts a glance back at the recruits. "I don't think we're alone. Be on guard."

As he says this, a web shoots out from the darkness and hits Jory's leg, pinning his foot to the step.

"Ugh!"

A web hits his other leg and they hear splashes deeper from below as something moves. Jory frantically tries to move his legs with Roderick's help but to no avail. Within moments, a giant spider the size of a mabari slowly moves out of the shadows toward them, its beady eyes glistening in the light from the torches.

Roderick's eyes widen. "Shit."

* * *

After not finding Ana in the chantry tent, Duncan had been on his way to the messing hall when he was intercepted by Cailan's servant. He sighs deeply as the lad bows to him.

"Forgive me, Warden-Commander. King Cailan has requested that you dine with him in his tent."

Duncan glances over the lad's head. "Tell the king that's very kind of him to offer but I must respectfully decline. I'm afraid Warden business demands my attention."

The lad doesn't move. "He insists."He states. "He wishes to discuss war with you. I believe he has some ideas about the battle, Sir."

When doesn't he? Duncan sighs once more. "Very well."

Beaming, the boy grins and motions for him to follow. "Right this way!" Without skipping a beat, he swivels around and starts toward the Royal pavilion with a rueful Duncan in tow.


	33. A Bit More Than A Bruised Ego

Fergus exhales as he looks out ahead of him. The journey from home was not what he had expected. Twice he and the Cousland army had been ambushed by companies of men lying in wait for them in the rolling hills that made up the Ferelden landscape. His retinue was much smaller than when he had headed out and now his men, like him, were weighed down with sleep deprivation, sickness and hunger. After the second attack, men were injured and killed and a few had taken ill or deserted in the middle of the night. Due to the followed up attack after the first, they began to stay off the Imperial Highway and travel mostly at night.

Now, after weeks of constant fear of being ambushed again, Fergus spotted the few remaining towers of Ostagar peeking over the treetops in the distance. He breathes a sigh of relief and feel the weight in his chest lift. Noting his lord's smile, his lieutenant follows his gaze.

"Is that?" He asks.

Fergus nods. "Welcome to Ostagar lads." He grins, clasping the man on his shoulder. "We've finally made it."

* * *

"Got a plan?" Rory mutters, his eyes wide as the spiders advance toward them. He begins to back up the stairs only to turn and see another giant spider repel down onto the top of the stairs behind them. Alistair and Roderick turn with their backs to Jory as he continues to try to free himself.

The space between them grows smaller by the second as Alistair glances around for something that can be of use. Why did it have to be fucking spiders of all things? He thinks to himself. Why not giant rabbits or frogs. At least those wouldn't be as gross or terrifying.

"Alistair?" Roderick says once more, holding his sword out toward the spider directly in front of him. "A plan?"

One of the spiders raises its front legs and shoots another web toward Alistair but he just barely manages to block it with his shield.

"I'm thinking." Alistair shouts back, his eyes falling on the fangs illuminated by his torch. "Believe it or not, giant spiders are not something I fight on a daily basis."

In his struggle to free himself, Jory swings the torch around and manages to catch a strand of cobweb hanging above his head on fire. It burns quickly and the remaining ashes fall.

"That's it!" Roderick exclaims. He tries to grab the torch from Jory but they struggle as Alistair glances around them.

"We're going to burn them?" Alistair asks, frowning. "I doubt that'll stop the ones surrounded by water."

Roderick manages to wrestle the torch from Jory and holds it to the cobwebs nearby, grinning as they instantly light and spread. "No but it'll definitely give us a better chance at not having more drop down on us."

Shrieks echo through the cavern below as fire spreads and fills the room and stairs with smoke. The men cover their mouths with their arms before Alistair and Roderick turn with their backs to each other, their swords at the ready.

Sensing the danger around them, the spiders hasten toward them. One of them launches toward Alistair, its legs hitting his shield with dull thud as he thrusts it outwards before jutting his sword out ahead of him. It shrieks as he manages to pierce some of it's eyes but it only is enraged more as it lunges once more. Again he juts his sword out, sunking it deep within it's eyes, wincing as blood spurts out of the wound while the spider screeches fall down the steps. The others pay little mind to their fallen brethren as they crawl over it.

Roderick swings his sword at the spider on the stairs above him but misses as it rears up and strikes out at him. It punctures his leg with the sharp end of one or its legs and he retaliates by shoving the torch into its eyes. Blinded, it backs up slightly and he swings the torch at it once more. The spider screeches as it suddenly catches fire. It quickly run past him down the steps, spreading the fire to the rest with surprising speed. In moments, area falls silent as the men tensely wait for the flames of the now charred bodies to draw more to them. They wait with baited breath before finally Alistair relaxes from his fighting stance and sheaths his sword. He lets out a breath of release before turning to Roderick. "Not what I expected but good thinking."

Kneeling before the old knight, Alistair pulls out his knife and cuts Jory free as Roderick surveys the charged corpses of the spiders littering the stairs and beyond. As Jory's legs are finally freed, he clears his throat. "Thank you, Warden." He mutters, the heat rising to his cheeks. "I apologize for my lack of…." He pauses and looks down at his boots with sudden interest. "Forgive me."

Feeling a little bad for the man, Alistair claps Jory on the shoulder with a grin. "No need, Ser Jory. Creatures like those are unpredictable." Turning around to face Roderick once more, he motions forward into the cavern. "Let's go before anything else catches us by surprise. "

* * *

Ana groans, blinking up at the canvas directly above her. As the blurriness begins to recede, she looks around her with a mix of confusion and fear. Where am I? Who's tent is this?

Against her better judgement, she pulls herself up into a sitting position and instantly feels the room spin. Bile fills her mouth and she closes her eyes as she tries to fight the urge to throw up. She hears voices just outside and looks to see a man silhouetted against the the flaps of the tent from a campfire. Memories of her assault return and fear grips her heart. Before she can try to get to her feet, the flap opens and one of the men ducks in and lights the lantern hanging from the center by a leather strap. As light fills the room, she sees that it's not the Wardens who attacked her. The light illuminates Nate's face as a look of surprise crosses his face before it's replaced with a grin.

"Oh good, you're awake." He says, ducking under the lantern to kneel beside her. "How are you feeling, My Lady?"

Tired, angry, embarrassed, and sore. She shrugs but finds that she can't meet his eyes. He nods.

"I healed the few cuts and bruises you had. There still may be some but they should go away eventually."

"Thank you." She mutters. "I don't know how to repay you for everything you've done for me."

He shakes his head. "No need. I did it to help a friend."

Hearing this, she risks a look at him and sees his kind smile which she returns with a half smile of her own. Suddenly remembering what had happened to her hound, she glances around. Her smiles falls. "Where's Much?"

Nate places a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry. He's safe. Carver spoke with the kennel master into caring for him while he recuperates. I was able to heal him a bit but he needs some rest."

"I must see him!" She exclaims, trying to get up and wincing as pain shoots through her side. He helps her back down. "You need rest as well, Ana. I promise you on my life, Much will be fine."

"I can't stay here." She frowns. "I need to get back to the Warden-Commander's tent. Duncan will be worried."

Nate nods. "I'm surprised your knight wasn't with you. I can sent Carver to find him? If not, I'll escort you back myself."

"Ser Gilmore has gone into the Wilds with the other Warden recruits." She says, wincing as she tries to straighten.

He raises a brow. "Aren't you a Warden recruit as well?"

Hesitantly she nods. "Yes. My case is a bit complicated."

"I understand." He pauses for a moment. "If you don't mind my asking, what happened? My brother found you passed out near a wall with your hound."

She shifts her gaze to look at the ground before her as she feels the heat rise to her cheeks. "I… was on my way to come see you when I was….attacked."

His brows furrow. "Attacked? By whom?"  
Shame and anger twist her stomach into knots as she debates whether she should tell him. She had no idea what his reaction would be or what he would do.

"Ana." He says, softly. "I know this must be difficult for you but you have to tell somebody."

"I know." She mutters, not looking up. "It was...two men."

"Were they soldiers?"

She thinks about this for a moment before nodding.

"Did they have their armor on? Did it have the King's insignia?"

She sighs. "They had armor but they we're from the Royal army. They were…." She pauses and Nate waits patiently for her to continue. "They were Grey Wardens."

Nate's brows jump up. "You were attacked by Wardens? Did they say why?"

Because I'm a noblewoman? Because I'm above them? Ana shrugs. "They weren't happy that I denied their advances and suggestive comments." She glances up at him suddenly, her eyes flickering as her anger takes over. "Much attacked them when they grabbed me and they kicked him! He was only protecting me." She shakes her head. "Those bastards will pay."

"I agree." Nate nods. "When you go back to the Warden-Commander, you'll need to tell him. That is his domain and I'm sure he'd want to know that this is happening. I doubt he will be pleased."

Ana watches him as he rises and he smiles at her confused expression.

"I imagine you're hungry." He states, walking over to the flaps. "While you were out, I went out to hunt and brought back some game. Carver is cooking it now."

The thought of food made her mouth water and she nods. "That would be wonderful. Thank you."

With a short bow, Nate exits the tent and rejoins his brother near the fire. The sun is already beginning to set in the light pink and purple streaked sky. Carver looks up hopefully from the pot of stew he's stirring. "How is she? I heard you talking so I'm assuming she's awake."

Nate sighs as he takes a seat. "She's still seems to be a bit sore but otherwise she's doing better. As expected, she was worried about her dog."

Carver shakes his head. "I'd like to know what kind of monster attacks a woman and her dog." He huffs. "I'd like to show them what happens to people like them."

"Easy there, little brother." Nate frowns. "It was two men and I have already advised her as to what to do. I don't want you getting involved. Mother would kill me if anything happened to her little boy."

"So we're just going to let them go scot-free?"Carver hisses, shooting him a glare. "Where was the knight? He should have protected her!"

"Shh!" Nate hisses, casting a glance at his tent before glaring at him. "Quiet. He was out in the Wilds for Warden business. Anyways, like I said, I've already advised her about what action to take. Stay out of it." He watches his brother sulk and motions toward the stew. "Is that almost finished? I offered some to Ana before we bring her back to the main encampment."  
The youth's brows furrow. "She's going back? Shouldn't she rest?"

Nate shrugs. "She has her own reasons for returning right away and I'm not going to stop her. I'm worried for her safety as well but the most we can do is get her back to her commander safely."

The tent flap behind him moves and Nate quickly turns to see a wobbly looking Ana peek through. He rises and steps over the log to take her hand and guide her to the log he was sitting on. Seeing her, Carver straighten and offers her a bashful smile.

"I'm glad to see you're up and about again, Ana." He says. "We were worried about you."

"So I heard." She says with an unfriendly expression. "I'd warn you against condoning Ser Gilmore. I don't hold his absence against him and you definitely have no right to."

Carver blanches and Nate shoots him a look that tells him told you so .

Sitting beside her, Nate picks up his nearby pack and pulls out a few tin plates and spoons.

"Forgive him, My Lady." He says. "My brother has a loud mouth and doesn't like to think before he speaks."

Ana pulls her mud-stained cloak she found in the tent closer around her. "I've noticed that." She sneers.

"Please forgive me." Carver says quickly with a bow of his head. "I meant no offense."

"Then perhaps you should have said nothing at all." Ana snaps back.

Once the stew is ready, the three of them eat in silence before Nate helps Ana to her feet. Grabbing onto his arm to stabilize herself, she allows him to guide her back to the main encampment.


	34. Bearer of Bad News

As they walk, a question that came up earlier burns in his mind. Reaching the outskirts of the encampment, Nate finally speaks up. "My Lady."

She turns to look at him expectantly. "Yes?"

"If you don't mind me asking, why must you return to the Warden-Commander's tent? I know you said he'd worry about you but I could have sent word of your condition."

She shakes her head as she tries to think of how to carefully word her answer. "As possibly one of the last Couslands, Duncan has requested that I stay in his tent until my Joining." She pauses. "I'm not very skilled at fighting either so I stay with him, for my protection."

"In the same bed?" He asks.

She gasps and turns to see his teasing grin. A smile tugs at the corners of her lips. "You're quite cheeky." She scoffs.

"So, is that a yes?"

She chuckles despite herself. "For your information, no. I sleep on a cot by myself in the far corner. Duncan has his own bed as well. I simply sleep there at night, nothing more."

"Whatever you say, My Lady." Nate chuckles.

Near the center of the main camp, a small crowd has gathered near the chantry platform. Ana's brows furrow as she looks at the filthy armor of the men and women. "I wonder what's happening?" She says, stopping in her tracks. She swallows. "Do you think that could be about Ser Gilmore?"

Nate follows her gaze. "Who knows?"

Releasing Nate's arm, she slowly starts toward the crowd when she sees the Cousland crest on one of the shields. "Oh my gosh…." She mutters, pushing herself against her protesting body. "Fergus?" She calls over the soldiers talking. She pushes past them. "Fergus!"

"Are you looking for Lord Fergus Cousland, lass?" One man asks as she brushes past him. Turning, she nods. "I am. Have you seen him?"

Before the man can answer, she looks ahead to where the man points to see her brother exiting General Loghain's tent. Her heart sings at the sight of him and she pushes her way through the crowd. "Fergus!" She calls as happy tears stream down her face. Hearing his name, Fergus's brows furrow as he looks around until he sees her running toward him. His brows raise.

"Ana?" He says, walking toward her before sweeping her up into his arms and spinning her around. She winces as he puts her down and pulls her into a hug. "Maker, I'm glad to see you!" Leaving his hands on her shoulders, he pulls away to look at her. "What are you doing here?" He asks, glancing around behind her. "Did Father bring you along? I bet Mother was furious." He chuckles.

Hearing this, all happiness drained from her as she felt once more on the verge of tears. Oh no. He hasn't heard . Sadly, she shakes her head.

"What?" He asks, noting the change in her demeanor. "What's wrong?"

"Fergus, Mum and Dad are dead." She says. "Howe attacked the Castle."

His smile fades and his brows furrow. "What…" He begins before shaking his head. "That's not funny, Ana. These are dangerous times."

"I'm not joking, Fergus. Why else would I be here?"

His eyes flick down toward the ground as he tries to absorb this new information. Moments pass before he finally looks up at her to ask her the question she has been dreading.

"What of my wife? What of Oriana and Oren? Are they alive?" He asks, his voice beginning to shake with emotion. "Surely if you were able to make it…" He trails off and Ana feels like her heart is being ripped out her chest. Her lower lip trembles as she slowly shakes her head.

"I'm so sorry, Fergus."

Fergus sinks to his knees in the mud, uncaring as he weeps into his hands. Tears break free from Ana's waterline and spill down her cheeks as she kneels beside him and embraces him. As his arms wrap around her, he buries his face in her shoulder and weeps while his sister gently strokes his hair, muttering comforting words.

From a distance, Nate watched as the siblings hugged and let their grief sweep over them. It tugged at his heartstrings at how familiar the scene was. He could remember the day he heard of his own father's death. His mother collapsed into his arms and wept for hours and was nearly inconsolable.

After a while, Fergus pulls away from his sister's embrace and sniffs. She helps him back to his feet and he once more pulls her into an embrace. "I'm so happy that at least you survived, Ana." He mutters. "I don't know what I would do if I had lost you as well."

Tears stream down Ana's cheeks. "Same goes to you. I've been anxiously awaiting news of your fate. Thank the Maker that you didn't fall victim to Howe's treachery."

Pulling apart, Ana uses her sleeve to wipe her eyes before she notices Nate standing nearby.

"There's somebody I wish you to meet." She says, motioning Nate over. "This is my new friend, Nathan Hawke." She introduces as the men shake hands. "Nate, this is my brother, Fergus."

"It's good to finally meet you, My Lord." Nate says, bowing his head. "Your sister has told me much about you."

"Nate has been very kind to me since I've arrived." Ana says.

Fergus offers him a smile. "I'm very grateful to you. I'm glad Ana had at least one person here she could trust. Our enemies are vast these days."

"It's been my pleasure. Ana is a wonderful woman."

Fergus nods at this and beams at his sister before he glances around. "Where is that Grey Warden that was at the castle? Surely he made it here?"

Ana nods. "Duncan is here. He and Ser Gilmore were the ones who helped me escape the castle."

Fergus' brows shoot up. "Ser Gilmore lives as well? Where is he?"

Grabbing his arm, Ana nods. "He does. He's out on a mission right now." She frowns. "Have you eaten?"

He sighs. "Not 's been a long journey."

Ana glances over at Nate who shrugs. "Come with me. I'm sure the dining tent is still open. You can eat and tell me about your journey." She says with a smile..

Smiling, Fergus clasps a hand over hers. "I would like that." He looks over at Nate. "How about you, Hawke? Care to join us?"

Glancing at Ana, Nate shakes his head. "Maybe another time. Now that Ana is safe, I'm going to head back to my tent. You two have a lot of catching up to do."

With a small bow, he turns to start walking when Ana reaches out to touch his arm. He raises a brow.

"Thank you again for everything, Nate. Have a good night."

Sweeping into a elaborate bow, he grins. "You as well, My Lady. Feel free to stop by tomorrow afternoon so I can check up on your wounds."

She nods and he walks away. Instantly, Fergus shoots her a questioning look. "You're wounded?"

Wrapping her arm around his, she motions with her chin. "It's a long story. Come on, your food awaits."


	35. The Witch of The Wilds

The men carefully step around the charred corpses of spiders and the remains of their past victims that were released from their bonds by the fire. Alistair winces as bones crunch under his boots.

They pick their way through the darkness, keeping an eye out for whatever else lurks within the shadows. Finally they find what looks to have once been a bedchamber with another set of bookshelves, rotting and covered with moss, and a large frame with tattered strips of fabric hanging from what must have once been the canopy.

Splashing through the ankle deep water, Alistair kneels before an old chest at the end of the bed. Holding the ember stone close, he touches the lock. "Looks like somebody tried to pick this." He says, eyeing the scratches. Setting the stone on top of the chest, Alistair unsheathes his sword. Using the pommel, he hits the lock a few times before it finally gives way and falls in the water.

"I thought you said the treaties were in a storage room?" Roderick asks as he comes to stand beside him. Jory holds his torch high as he keeps a look out for any more dangers.

"Duncan said they may be but I'm just covering my bases." Sheathing his sword, he takes the ember stone and carefully opens the chest. The books and papers were already destroyed, either by the water that had gotten in or with age He rifles around it, finding a couple large vials of thick red liquid which Alistair quickly stows away in his pack before returning to his search.

"What was that?" Roderick ask. "Did you find them?"

Alistair shakes his head. "No. Just some vials that Duncan would like to also see recovered." Finding little else of use, he shuts the chest and rises. "Let's find that storage room so we can start getting back. There should a be a door around here somewhere." He motions for the others to spread out. "Keep an eye out."

Each man takes their light source and spreads out to opposite sides of the room in search of any indication of the adjoining storage room. Touching walls and checking the ruined painting for hidden switches, Alistair's heart begins to sink. Standing back from where he was searching along the wall, he frowns. "This makes no sense." He mutters to himself. "The map showed a small storage room connected to this bedchamber." He turns to look at the other two. "Any luck?"

"Not here." Jory calls back.

"Nothing here either." Roderick replies, his eyes still scanning the area around him. "Are you sure there isn't another bedchamber it was referring to?"

"No." Alistair frowns. "Only the Chamberlain had a private chamber. Any visiting Wardens stayed in a dormitory on the other side of the Archive." Walking over toward a large series of bookshelves lining one of the walls, his eyes scan the book cases. His brows furrow.

"Wait…." He mutters, more to himself than the other two. "Why is this shelf still here?"

"What do you mean?" Roderick asks, coming to stand beside him. Roderick looks at the bookcase before them.

"Look." Alistair points to the shelf. "This shelf is holding up better than the others." He points next to it at the other shelves that have begun sagging from the books and starting to pull away from the wall. Roderick shrugs.

"Maybe this shelf is newer than the rest?" He suggests but the Warden ignores him.

Alistair moves his hand over the wood and along the side before smiling. "Aha."

Jory joins them as Alistair grunts as he slowly pulls the the bookcase out. The stone wall attached is heavy and it takes both Roderick and Alistair to pry it open enough to look in. Pocketing the emberstone, he takes a torch from Roderick and steps in, holding his torch high.

The room is fairly small but crates, chests and old furniture fill the small space, covered with cobwebs and dust from its time stowed away. Whether the water had already been inside or it rushed in when they opened the door, the floor had a couple inches of water as well. Alistair comes to kneel before one of the chests and brushes away some of the dust that had accumulated on the top. As the dust is cleared away, the men stare at the silver griffin crest that shines in the light of the torch.

"This must be it." Alistair mutters. Once more, he draws his sword and uses the pommel to break the rusted lock. Inside, papers and books that had since been destroyed liter the inside, almost the whole inside reeks with mildew and rot. Trying not to breath in the stench, Alistair quickly rifles around the contents before finally sitting back on his heels.

"I don't understand…." He mutters with disbelief. "They should be here!"

"Surely Duncan will be able to get the factions to join without them, right?" Roderick asks with a frown. "After all, a promise is a promise, regardless of how long ago it was made."

Alistair says nothing in response as he turns from the storage area. The men follow him back the way they came. Nearing the steps, they see a shadow reflected on the wall move and instantly draw their weapons.

"Darkspawn?" Jory asks. "More spiders maybe?"

Before Alistair can response, they see a thin woman, her fair complexion and piercing yellow eyes glowing in the light of the torch. She casually descends the stairs, apparently unfazed by the chill in her scant clothing. "Well, well. What have we here?" She purrs, her darkly painted lips turning up into a smirk. She comes to a halt before them. She raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Are you a vulture, I wonder? A scavenger poking amidst a corpse whose bones were long since cleaned?"

The men step back, their swords held out before them. The woman seems uncaring of their defensive stance. "Or merely an intruder, come into these darkspawn-filled Wilds of mine in search of easy prey." She cocks her head to the side as her yellow gaze falls on Alistair. "What say you, hmm? Scavenger or Intruder?"

"Neither." Rory answers beside him. "We are with the Wardens seeking to reclaim something that is ours. They used to own this tower."

Her eyes flick to him with an amused expression. "'Tis a tower no longer. The Wilds have obviously claimed this desiccated corpse." She circles around them, chuckling as they shuffle around to ensure they keep her in sight. "I have watched your progress for some time. 'Where do they go,' I wondered, 'Why are they here?'" She stops. "And now you disturb ashes none have touched for so long. Why is that? What is it you seek?"

Alistair scowls from beside him. " Don't answer that. She looks Chasind, and that means others will be nearby." Alistair mutters, glancing about in the shadows.

"You fear barbarians will swoop down upon you?" The woman grins.

"Yes…" Alistair frowns. "swooping is bad."

"She looks like a witch." Jory hisses. "I've heard stories about the witches of the wilds. She may be one of them."

The woman chuckles. "Witch of the Wilds? Such ideal fancies, those legends. Have you no minds of your own?" She turns to Roderick. "You there, handsome lad. You don't seem to be frightened like a little boy as your companions do. Let us be civilized. Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine."

"Don't do it." Alistair hisses. The woman glares at him.

"Hush. I was speaking to your companion."

"Name's Gilmore. Roderick Gilmore." Roderick says, gripping his sword. "And you are?"

She gives a slight smile and nod. "Very good. You may call me Morrigan, if you wish."

"I'd rather not." Alistair,mutters.

Morrigan ignores him. "Shall I guess your purpose? Why the look on your faces and the lack of anything being carried, I'd guess what you seek is here no longer. Correct?"

"Here no longer?" Alistair sneers. "You stole them, didn't you? You're…. some kind of….sneaky….witch-thief!"

"How very eloquent!" She chuckles. "How does one steal from dead men exactly?"

"Quite easily, it seems." Alistair retorts. "Those documents are Grey Warden property, and I suggest you return them."

Morrigan scoffs. "I will not! Twas not I who removed them. Invoke a name that means nothing here any longer, if you wish. I am not threatened."

Roderick's brows furrow as he glances at Alistair before turning back to her. "If it was not you, then who took them?"

"Twas my mother, in fact." Morrigan sighs.

"You have one?" Alistair sneers.

"Where is your mother? May we speak to her?" Roderick asks.

She thinks for a moment before smiling. "Hm… There is a sensible request. I like you."

"I'd be careful, Roderick. First its 'I like you…' " Alistair says, imitating Morrigan's silky voice. "but then zap , frog time. Our luck, she's turn us and then throw us in a pot for frog soup."

"If the pot's warmer than this damned forest and ruin, it'd be a nice change." Jory mutters.

Morrigan shrugs and turns toward the stairs once more, pausing to call over her shoulder. "Follow me then, if it pleases you."

"I don't like this." Jory mutters, sheathing his sword after the others as they start to follow her up the stairs.

"Neither do I." Alistair replies with a frown. "But what choice d we have?"

* * *

Following Morrigan out of the ruins of the archive, they head further into the Wilds. Passing through the dark and damp woods, they come out to a secluded area in the middle of a swamp where a stout cottage sits. An older woman with short cropped grey hair and roughspun clothes kneels beside a patch of what looks like weeds.

"Greetings, Mother. I bring before you three Grey Wardens who-" Morrigan begins. Her mother turns and smiles at the men before rising to greet them. She gives her daughter a dismissive wave. "I see them, girl." Her eyes narrow slightly as she looks them over. "Hmm. Less than I expected." She mutters.

"Are we supposed to believe that you were expecting us?" Alistair blurts out.

The woman smiles. "Something like."

"Our other man died, if that's the other you were expecting." Roderick adds.

The woman gives him a knowing smile. "I see." She turns to look at Alistair. "You are required to do nothing, least of all believe. Shut one's eyes tight or open one's arms wide… either way, one's a fool!" She lets out a laugh which puts Alistair on edge.

"Great. I see where the other one gets the talking in riddles." He mutters, meeting Morrigan's glare. Jory nudges him.

"If she is a witch, it's best not to make her mad." He whispers.

"There is a smart lad. Sadly, irrelevant in the larger scheme of things, but it is not I who decides. Believe what you will." The woman says. She takes a step forward and the men back up. The woman snorts and looks at Alistair."So much is uncertain and yet… I believe. Do I? Why, it seems I do!"

She turns from them and Alistair nudges Gilmore, smirking. "So, this is a dreaded witch of the Wilds? Somehow that's hard to believe."

The woman stops mid-stride and slowly swivels around with a laugh. "Witch of the Wilds? Morrigan must have told you that. She fancies such tales, though she would never admit to it! Oh how she dances under the moon!" She mockingly laughs.

Morrigan roll eyes. "They did not come to hear your wild tales, Mother." She says pointedly. Amused that she succeeded in her efforts to embarrass her daughter, the woman nods with a grin.

"True, they came for their treaties, yes?"

Alistair's eyes widen. "How did you…?"

As Alistair tries to make sense of how she would know, she removes the aged documents from her apron pocket and holds them out. "And before you begin barking, your precious seal wore off long ago. I have protected these."

"You..!" Alistair begins but stops, brows shooting up "Oh...You protected them?"

The woman looks almost offended. "And why not? Take them to your Grey Wardens and tell them this Blight's threat is greater than they realize!"

"What do you mean?" Roderick asks.

Once more, the woman grins with a shrug. "Either the threat is more than they realize. Or perhaps the threat is nothing! Or perhaps they realize nothing!" She laughs, making Alistair sigh.

"Great. More riddles." He mutters.

"Oh, do not mind me. You have what you came for." The woman says with a dismissive wave.

"Yes. Tis time for you to go, then." Morrigan says with a smirk. "Goodbye."

Her mother sniffs. "Do not be ridiculous, girl. These are your guests!"

"Oh, very well." Morrigan sighs. "I will show you out of the woods. Follow me."

The sun is beginning to set when Morrigan finally leads them out of the darkened woods. She stops and motions outwards. "Here you are. Your camp should be nearby."

The men turn and see the smoke rising above the nearby treetops.

"Well, thank you… I guess." Alistair begrudgingly says, turning to face her. He finds that she has disappears and frowns. Clamping a gauntleted hand on either man's shoulder, he sighs. "Well… let's get back."


	36. A Brother's Wrath

The gates open for the Warden and his recruits. "Maker's breath!" The guard standing nearby exclaims as he sees them. "You look like you've all been through hell." His brows furrow. "Wait… weren't there more of you?"

"There were." Alistair replies, grimly. He turns to the other two. "I imagine you're both hungry and exhausted. I'll take the blood you collected and you can go find some dry clothes and get something to eat."

Both men hand him their vials and Roderick lowers his voice. "Forgive me Warden but I don't have much for clothes given my circumstances. Do you know of a place I can possibly get some? I don't have too much money…"

"The chantry may have some. They may ask you for a donation." Alistair shrugs. "Either that our you can ask the royal army's quartermaster."

Roderick thanks him with a smile.

"So, when will the Joining be?" Jory asks. Roderick was just beginning to walk away but stops to hear Alistair's answer.

"That's up to Duncan. Preparations need to be made and I still have to inform him of Daveth's fate in the Wilds. As you have said, he deserves proper treatment. We'll summon you when the time comes for you all to go through your Joining."

As the men split up to go their own ways, Roderick starts toward the large chantry tent. The eternal flame is lit in the brazier ahead but the pews themselves are empty. Coming up to the large statue of Andraste, he kneels before it and bows his head.

Maker, I thank you for ensuring my safety out in the Wilds and allowing for me to return to my love, Ana. Her world is filled with darkness after the murder of her family and I could not bear for her to be left alone here.

"Evening, my child." A kind voice says from behind him. "Welcome. The evening service will begin within the hour. Otherwise, you are free to sit and pray in the adjoining room."

He rises and turns to see the Revered Mother standing in the aisle. She offers him a smile as she motions to the flap leading to the adjacent area.

"Good evening, Revered Mother," He kneels before her and bows his head. "Forgive my intrusion and appearance."

She motions for him to rise. "You need no forgiveness, my child, for you have not offended anyone here. Andraste smiles on all those who are here to fight for the cause."

He rises. "Of course." He pauses. "Forgive me but I was told that you may have some spare clothes? I don't have much but I am willing to pay." He cheeks redden slightly. "Before arriving, my circumstances didn't allow for me to pack extra clothes."

The Revered Mother looks him over. "Of course." She nods. "Come with me." She motions for him to join her. Moving into the adjacent room, she motions to the large chest off to the side. "It's not much but you should find something good enough in there. While you change, I'll fetch you some water to clean up."

Roderick thanks her as she leaves him in the area alone. Removing his stained armor, he lets out a breath as it falls to the ground with a clatter as metal hits metal. Kneeling before the chest, he digs around and finds a few pieces when the Revered Mother calls to him before entering. She places the pail of water with a rag beside him.

"Thank you." he says as she begins to walk away once more. "Revered Mother?"

She stops near the flap and turns to look at him. "Yes, my child?"

He closes the chest and rises. "I have one more thing to ask, if you don't mind." She nods for him to continue. "I'm also looking for a young woman. Perhaps you've seen her? She has shoulder length dark brown hair… bright blue eyes?"

She smiles. "Ah. You must be the young man I've heard about. Unfortunately, she left here hours ago. She came here to pray for your safe return and it seems the Maker was kind."

"Seems so." He smiles. "Do you know where she went? I wish to show her that I'm alright."

The Mother thinks for a moment before frowning and shaking her head. "I'm sorry to say that I do not. She did not speak of where she was going after she left."

Frowning, Roderick nods. "I see."

"Perhaps you can check the mess tents? At this hour, I believe they are serving a late dinner for those who are out on patrol. Perhaps she has gone there?"

I doubt it since she's been having issues with the serving staff...but it's worth a shot . "Thank you, Revered Mother. Maker bless you."

"And you, my child." She nods and then disappears.

* * *

Fergus stands in line with Ana by his side. A silence had fallen over them and Ana tried to think of something to say. "The food isn't the greatest." She suddenly says. "Not like Nan's."

Fergus shrugs. "That's fine. I'm quite used to camp food. Father and I usually ate with the soldiers during our campaigns." He smiles sadly. "He always said there is no hierarchy in war. Men bleed and die, regardless of their station so why should we eat different food and sleep on fancy beds while our men slept on cots and lumpy bedrolls."

Yet it was that type of honorable mentality that led to his closest friend betraying him . Ana thinks to herself. "If only Howe had that type of mentality. That snake only cared about rising in station and didn't care how he did it."

Her brother reaches out to grab her hand. "Ana, I promise you that after this war, I will gather our allies and avenge our family. Howe will not get away with what he has done."

"I pray to the Maker that he doesn't."

* * *

Fergus gets his food and they sit down across from each other. As Fergus begins to eat, he watches his sister glance around as she subconsciously fingers the ends of her hair.

"I like your hair, by the way." He says with a smile. "It suits you."

"Ser Gilmore told me the same thing." She snorts. "It was not by choice but necessity." She shrugs. "Admittedly, I'm beginning to grow used to it but I still long for how things were before this nightmare."

"You two are still at it then?" Fergus chuckles as she shoots him a look. "I'm only teasing. I'm glad you have somebody from before. Things are difficult as it is. I'm glad you have somebody who cares for you and has your best interests at heart."

She nods. "Well we are. He only arrived here two days before you with Much."

"I wondered where your hound was but didn't want to upset you in case something had happened to him. You two have always been inseparable. Where is he?"

"He's….being looked after by the Kennel Master." She replies, looking down at her hands.

Fergus frowns. "Is he ill? Injured?" He sees her expression. "Ana, what aren't you telling me? Has something happened?"

"It's nothing." Ana says as she feels the tears beginning to form. "I'm fine."

He looks around them before lowering his voice. He leans forward. "Ana… Has somebody done something to you? Tell me."

Ana looks around once more. "I was...attacked but…" She quickly adds. "I'm fine now. Hawke was able to heal some of my injuries-"

"Who? Who attacked you, Ana?" Fergus demands, his eyes flashing. "I will make whoever harmed you pay. Where was Ser Gilmore? As your personal guard-"

"It was not his fault. Since he and I are to be made Grey Wardens, he was sent out into the Korcari Wilds with the other Warden recruits."

Fergus pushes his food away as he shakes his head. "Somebody should have stayed with you. You're a young woman with no fighting experience. I shall speak with Duncan about this."

"No!" She exclaims, earning a confused look from her brother. "I mean… I'll talk to him. I was just on my way to speak with him when I saw that you finally arrived. Tonight, I will tell him of the attack earlier."

"Earlier? You mean this happened just before I arrived?" Fergus hisses.

"No… I mean yes….It happened hours ago." She says, her voice cracking. "Please…. I promise you that I'm fine. Hawke helped me after it happened." Ana pleads, reaching for his hands. "Let's talk about something else. Tell me, aside from the news I gave you, how have you been?"

By the look on his face, she could tell that he didn't want to let the matter go. He sighs. "Well as can be expected. We were ambushed twice by, what I now assume were Howe's men. Many were lost but I managed to make it here in one piece." He pauses, frowning. "You said you're now a Grey Warden? How on Earth did that happen?"

"I'm only a recruit for now until I go through the Joining." She shrugs. "In return for Duncan's protection, Father promised me to the Wardens since they're in dire need. It was not my choice nor would I have chosen this fate if it was."

He nods and places a hand on hers. "Even so, while I'm not happy that you're here and going to be in the battle, I'm grateful that Duncan and Ser Gilmore helped you escape Howe's treachery. I suppose you becoming a Grey Warden is a small price to pay to ensure that you lived."

"I suppose." Ana mutters miserably.

Removing his hand, he takes another bite of his food and a swig of ale. "So what is this Joining?"

"There you are!"

They both turn to see Roderick walking toward them, dressed simply rather than in his armor. Ana's eyes quickly goes to the dark red scratch across his cheek.

Noticing Fergus, he quickly drops to his kneel. "My Lord, you've arrived!"

"Evening, Ser Gilmore. It's good to see you again, though I regret the circumstances that we're reuniting under." Fergus replies, motioning for him to rise. In moments, Ana rises.

"You're back!" She says, close to tears as she embraces him. She touches his cheek, tracing the scrape with her fingers before meeting his gaze. Her lip trembles. "You came back to me." She whispers. "I was so afraid you would not return."

"One of us didn't. Daveth is dead." Rory frowns. He holds her close and she winces. He Pulls away, concerned. "What's wrong?"

She shakes her head. "I'll explain later. Which one is Daveth?"

"The thief."

"Oh. Good riddance." Ana sneers. "I didn't like him."

She feels a bout of lightheadedness wash over her and clings to him until it passes.

"Are you sure you're alight?" He asks, helping her sit down. Both him and Fergus exchange a concerned glance.

Ana nods. "Were you able to complete the task? Did you find the scrolls?"

Roderick nods " Yes. Now we must wait for Duncan to decide on when we shall begin our Joining." He touches her hand.

"What's the Joining?" Fergus asks once more.

Roderick shrugs. "We have no idea. They have yet to tell us anything about it. All I've been able to wrangle out of Alistair is that it's a ceremony of sorts."

"How mysterious." Fergus scoffs. He motions to him."Come, Ser Gilmore. Grab some food and join us. If anything I believe you have earned it."


	37. Just One More Night

"Duncan?" Alistair says as he enters his mentor's tent. The old Warden rises from writing desk and turns to look behind him at Alistair. "Good Evening, Alistair. I'm glad to see you've returned. How did the recruits do? Were you successful in your tasks?"

"We were." He nods, reaching into his pack to retrieve the documents. He holds them out to him. " Here."

Duncan takes them and looks them over with an affirming nod. "Good. Well done."

"There were a few incidents that happened though." Alistair frowns.

Duncan looks up, raising a brow. "Incidents?"

The lad nods. "Daveth is dead. He was infected when the taint entered his wound. We were unable to help him."

Duncan sighs as he runs a hand over his beard. "Poor lad. What of the others?"

"Ser Gilmore proved to be a skilled fighter and showed bravery in the face of trouble." Alistair replies, envy seeping into his words. "Ser Jory did okay as well." He pauses. "However, the documents weren't where we expected."

"What do you mean?"

"There was a woman in the tower. Apparently the seals wore off a long time ago so her mother had taken them and protected them. They were both very... odd." Alistair says.

"I see…" Duncan nods. "Were they Wilder folk? Some do reside in the Wilds."

He thinks for a moment before shaking his head. "I don't think so. I think they might have been apostates; mages hiding from the Chantry."

Duncan sighs and leans back against the table. "I know you were once a Templar, Alistair, but Chantry business is not ours. We have the scrolls; Let's be content with that for now. Soon we will need to start preparing for the Joining. Speaking of...were you able to collect some darkspawn blood for Ana?"

Alistair nods and hands him the vial from his pack.

"Good. What of the other two?" Duncan asks, examining the vial.

"I have their vials as well. I was unable to retrieve Daveth's."

"That's fine." Duncan sets the vial on table along with the treaties.

"While were were in the Chamberlain's room, I did find something else." Alistair says, stepping forward. Duncan looks up as he reaches into his pack and holds up the large vials he found in the chest. "Archdemon blood." Alistair states. "They had quite a bit in the chest at the foot of the bed. I figured we could hold onto it for future Joinings."

"There won't be anymore Joinings."

Alistair's brows furrow. "What do you mean?"

Duncan leans against the table. "There have been whispers that signs of corruption have been spotted close to camp. If this is true, the battle may soon be upon us." He frowns. "Even if that is untrue, I am unable to leave Ostagar to look for new recruits. I need to be here to look after Ana, especially if Ser Gilmore is to perish during his Joining."

Alistair frowns. "But what if Ana dies? You would be free to go then. Or I can go?"

Duncan allows himself to crack a smile. "I commend your dedication to our order Alistair but you are only a junior Warden; Only a Commander or higher can recruit. Besides," he shrugs. "I need to begin training those that we already have. If the darkspawn truly are close, we need to use what little time we have left to prepare." He pauses. "When you arrived, did you see Ana?"

Alistair's brows knit together. "No. I'm sure Gilmore went to look for her. Why?"

"I need you to look for her and tell her that I wish to speak with her. It's important."

* * *

Fergus rises from the table and grabs his bowl. "As nice as this all was to catch up, I should be heading back." He says. "I still need to set up camp and check up on my men." His eyes shift from his sister to Ser Gilmore. "Watch after her for me."

Roderick bows his head. "I will, my lord. You have my word."

Ana watches as her brother leaves and frowns. Even though he was still going to be close by, seeing him leave her was painful.

"Care to walk with me, my lady?" Roderick says, offering a smile. She turns to look at him and returns his smile with a nod.

Together, they leave the tent and he reaches for her hand. Together, they follow the path leading around camp. They remain silent for a while before Roderick finally sighs. He stops and Ana raises a brow. "Ana, my love."

"Yes?"

He frowns. "I've tried to wait but I can't take it anymore. When I touched you, you winced. Why?"

She shrugs. "I'm just a bit sore, that's all. You just happened to touch where I was sore." She tries to continue walking but is anchored by her lover.

"Sweetheart, what happened while I was gone? I also noticed that Much isn't with you." Roderick says softly.

Ana avoids his gaze and she tries to carefully choose her words. "He's with the kennel master."

Pulling her aside, he cups her jaw and looks into her eyes. "Ana, please. I know something is wrong." He frowns. "Please tell me."

Tears threaten to fall and her bottom lip trembles. "I…" She begins. She stops to take a breath to calm the emotions bubbling up inside her. "I was attacked."

His eyes widen. "What? By whom? When?"

"A couple of Grey Wardens. They were hitting on me and when I wasn't receptive…" she pauses as she takes a moment to calm herself. Roderick patiently waits. "They attacked me and they…." She covers her mouth with her hand as she replays the incident in her mind.

"They what?" Roderick urges.

"They kicked Much… hard." She says. Tears begin spilling down her cheeks and her pulls her close, stroking her hair as he tries to calm her.

"You're all right now, my love." He whispers into her hair. "Tell me all that happened."

Walking over to a half-collapsed wall, they take a seat beside one another.

"When I refused to do what they wanted, they grabbed me and Much snapped at them. They… they didn't like that so one of them kicked Much so hard he flew back and hit the wall." She cries harder. "I tried to go to him but they grabbed me and one of them forcefully kissed me. I bit him and he…. hit me...and then took my mother's dagger…" She collapses into his shoulder and begins to sob uncontrollably. He holds her as her shoulders shake.

"Maker's breath…" He mutters. "I'm so sorry Ana."

Sniffing, she pulls away and wipes some of the tears away with her hand before continuing. "I reached for my dagger again but he kicked my side...and….kicked me some more. After that…" She stops to take a shallow breath. "I'm not entirely sure what happened….I blacked out." She leans once more into him,placing her hand on his chest. "Oh, Rory, it was horrible."

"Those bastards!" He growls. "I'm so sorry, my Love. This is my fault. I'm supposed to protect you and yet this time…"

She pulls away, shaking her head violently. "No, no. It's not your fault, Rory. You had no choice about going out into the Wilds." She touches his cheek but his guilt was writ all over his face.

"I should've fought harder to stay. I should've asked to wait with you for Fergus." He rants. "I should've-"

She cuts him off by pulling him into a kiss. It was salty from Ana's tears and she winced as he held her but she kept him close. "Shh, my love." She says between kisses. "It wasn't because of you. I love you so much."

"I love you too." He mutters before managing to pull away. "We must inform Duncan immediately. He needs to know so that he can punish the bastards."

"I'll tell him… but first, I want to check up on Much." She says, clinging to him. "Hawke found me and healed most of my injuries as well as Much's but he's with the kennel master to rest. I want to see with my own eyes that he's alright."

Nodding, he leans forward for one final peck on the lips. "Very well. But after, we need to see Duncan."

* * *

"Maker's breath…" Ana mutters, running over to the pen where Much is sleeping. From where she stood, she could still see a couple lines of dried blood near his neck.

"May I help you, Miss?" The kennel master asks, walking up.

"This is her hound." Roderick replies, motioning to Much. It took every ounce of her being not to open the gate and hold him. She could feel the tears stinging her eyes as they threatened to fall. She looks over at the Kennel master. "His name is Much. How is he doing? My friend's brother was the one who brought him here to you."

The man crosses his arms over his chest. "He's going to be alright. His injuries were minor and Hawke was able to help. However, as I'm sure Hawke told you, your hound requires rest. I'll keep him safe and take care of him in the meantime. You have my word."

"Thank you for looking after him." Ana frowns, her lips trembling. "I'm grateful to you."

Roderick thanks the man as well and slowly leads Ana away. As she opens her mouth to speak, she sees Alistair up head and scowls.

"Great." She mutters, rolling her eyes.

Alistair ignores her and greets Roderick. "Glad to see you two found each other."

Roderick tightens his grip around her shoulders slightly. "As am I. Any news on the Joining?"

Alistair's eyes flick to Ana then back. "Not yet… But Duncan needs to speak with you, Ana."

"About?" She asks, not budging.

He shrugs. "He didn't say. I'm assuming that means it's important and private." He says, pointedly. "I was only sent to give you the message."

"Fine." She mutters as she shoots him a glare. "Let's go, Rory."

Taking his hand, she leads him away and he shoots the lad a rueful look.

* * *

"You wanted to see me?" Ana asks as she enters the tent while Roderick stays just outside. He straightens from where he was bent over the map rolled out on the table. He nods. "I did." Walking around the table, she watches the neutral look on his face as he comes to stand before her. "I imagine you're relieved to see Ser Gilmore back. Alistair informed me that he was valiant in the field and showed great courage."

"I'm not surprised. My father and brother often spoke of his skill with a weapon." Ana says, the pride evident in her voice. She eyes him for a moment. "But I'm assuming you didn't call me here to discuss Ser Gilmore."

"No." He pauses. Reaching up, he gently tilts her chin up and to the side to see the slight bruising starting to form. "This looks recent. What's happened?"

She shies away. "It's nothing. What is it you wished to speak with me about?"

He crosses his arms over his chest. "Ana. I promised your father that I would look after you. I cannot protect you if I have no idea what happens when you're out and about. Now tell me; The truth this time."

Sighing, she looks up at him. She purses her lips. "I just had a minor run-in with a couple Wardens, that's all. For being warriors renown for fighting for the weak, you guys certainly are an unfriendly bunch." She watches his expression to see how the barb effects him but he remains neutral.

He looks once more at the side of her face. "Grey Wardens did this to you?" As his eyes meet hers, she's slightly taken back by the intensity. "Do you know their names? Or at the very least recall what they looked like?" Ana remains quiet and he sighs. "I won't deny that we tend to recruit former offenders who have been in trouble with the law for one thing or another but regardless of their lives before the Joining, this type of behavior is not tolerated."

"And yet it happened." She retorts. "Not that it'll help much but from what I can recall, their names are Daniel and Roy. Daniel is slim with light blonde hair and Roy is a bit fat with dark hair and skin."

"I will look into it. For now, I suggest sticking close to the main encampment and not wandering around alone." He glances around. "Speaking of, where's your hound?"

Now it's Ana's turn to cross her arms over her chest. "With the kennel master since those two thugs hurt him when he tried to protect me."

Sighing, he closes his eyes and rub his temples. "I apologize, Ana. I will find the men responsible and make sure that they are punished."

"Good."

Turning on her heel, she begins to start back toward the flaps when Duncan calls to her. She rolls her eyes before turning. "Yes?"

He feels his irritation growing at her attitude but he takes note to talk to her about it later. "I have good news for you."

She raises a brow. "Which is?"

"Your brother and his army has been spotted by some of our scouts and are on their way here."

"I know." She says. "Was that it?"

His brows raise. "You know?"

Ana nods. "I was on my way back to tell you about the men who attacked me when I saw him coming out of Loghain's tent. We were able to talk together and I had the grave misfortune of telling him about our family and his wife and child."

Duncan frowns. "I imagine that was very difficult. I'm very sorry."

"Not as sorry as I am." She frowns. Her lower lip quivers. "I was dreading his reaction and it was more heartbreaking than I could have anticipated."

He nods and a silence fall between them. After a moment, Duncan continues. "With your brother now at Ostagar, it seems that we can carry on with the Joining."

"So soon?" Ana frowns, her superior attitude dropped. He could see the flicker of fear in her eyes. Had she heard something?

He nods. "I'm afraid so, My Lady. The sooner we do it, the sooner you can begin training with the other Wardens. Since we have no idea when the darkspawn will strike, it's essential that we recruit as many as possible and try to train them before it's too late."

She absorbs this and slowly nods before meeting his gaze. "In that case, I have a request."

Unsurprised, he motions to her. "Go ahead."

"I know you said that I need to stay in your tent until after the Joining but, with Much resting and recuperating with the other hounds, I request to spend the night with Ser Gilmore in his tent." She blushes slightly. "As I'm sure you can imagine, regardless of our relationship, we were never able to spend the night together. Before our new lives as Grey Wardens begin, I want us to be together one last time as we are now; A lady and her knight."

Despite everything, a smile forms n Duncan's face. "Very well. " He says. He feels a pang of jealousy mingled with a warmth as she smiles. "However, I need you to check in first thing tomorrow morning. I have no doubts that Ser Gilmore will protect you but, given your attack, it would put my mind at ease and help me keep tabs on you until the Joining. Understand?"

She eagerly nods. "I understand." Without hesitation, she hugs him. It takes a moment for Duncan to register it but she pulls away before he can respond."Thank you, Duncan " She grins. "I will see you bright and early tomorrow."

Taking her leave, Ana rushes out of the tent and immediately jumps up to hug Roderick, her legs wrapping around him as she kisses him. The guards watch enviously.

"I take it you heard good news?" Roderick asks with a chuckle.

"Yes! Duncan says that we…" She begins to tell him before noticing the guards watching. She removes herself from him and takes his hand, before leading him away. Once far enough away, she spins to face him. "With Much out recuperating, Duncan has given me permission to spend the night with you!" She beams.

"Oh, my love! That's wonderful!" He exclaims. Pulling her into an embrace, he kisses her.

"It is!" She exclaims, a tear falling down her cheek. She reaches up to cup his cheek. "Finally, I'm able to wake up in your arms as I've always wanted. Maker be praised!"

"While I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, what made him agree to it?" Roderick asks. "I know you mentioned Much's condition but-"

She shrugs. "Since Fergus has arrived, the Joining will be taking place tomorrow night. Because of this, I wanted to spend the night with you before our lives changed." Excitement and nervousness rushed through her. "And Rory... "

"What, my love?" He asks.

She bites her lip. "I don't want to wait. Let's get married right now and make tonight our wedding night." She leans forward, rubbing her nose against his. "Just you and I. Once this damn war is over, we'll have a real ceremony but for now, let's just elope."

He touches her cheek. "Are you sure? What about Fergus?"

Her smile falls as she shrugs. "He just found out about Oren and Oriana. Having him there to witness my wedding would feel like I'm rubbing my happiness in his face." She frowns. "I can't do that to him." She shakes her head. "No. Let's just elope and… and we'll have an actual ceremony later. What do you say?"

He smiles. "I say that I don't want to wait any longer either. Let's do it."


	38. Just A Lady and Her Knight

Roderick and Ana stand a foot apart, facing each other as the Revered Mother stands beside them. She looks at them in turn with a smile.

"Before we commence with the ceremony, I will ask this only once; is this truly what you desire?" She asks. Without looking away from one another, Ana nods.

"It is."

"More than anything." Roderick adds.

The Mother nods. "Very well. Today in front of the Maker and his bride we are here to bind these two souls until death do they part." She says. She picks up a richly embroidered ribbon depicting Andraste's life and death from table. "Now, clasp right hands."

As they clasp their hands, the Revered Mother mutters a brief prayer to Andraste to protect their bond as she wraps the ribbon around their clasped hands. Once finished, she smiles. "Now, say the words. Ana, you may begin."

Nodding, Ana exchanges a smile with Roderick. She raises her opposite hand.

"With this hand, I will lift your sorrows and share your burdens." She says. The Revered Mother hands her the silver pitcher. She pours some of the deep burgundy wine into one of the silver chalices on the small table between them. "Your cup will never be empty, for I will be your wine."

Handing the pitcher back, she reaches out to grab one of the long, thin candles from the Mother. Taking care to keep the flame away from her mouth to avoid extinguishing it, she rises it slightly. "With this candle, I will light your way into darkness and vanquish any harm against you." She lights the larger two wick candle on the table between them before handing it back. A well of happiness tinged with sadness falls over her as the Revered Mother then hands her one of her parents' rings. She holds it up. "With this ring, I ask you to be mine until the end of our days."

She slips the ring on his ring finger.

"Well done." The Revered Mother beams. She turns to Gilmore. "Now you, Roderick." Word for word, Roderick repeats the vows as he fills her chalice, lights the other wick to create a single flame and slips the ring onto her left ring finger.

The Revered Mother raises her arms. "Now, by the grace of the Maker and his blessed bride, I pronounce you two wed. You may now seal it with a kiss."

"Gladly." Rory mutters, reaching up with free hand to caress Ana's cheek and pulls her into a kiss.

* * *

Spotting the remnants of his meal still clinging to the edges of his mouth in the nearby mirror, Alistair quickly wipes it away with his clean tunic sleeve. Duncan had summoned him as he was eating and told him that it was urgent. He hadn't wanted to just throw the rest away so the lad had quickly lifted the bowl to his mouth and slurped up what was left of his stew.

He shifted from one foot to the other. He was confused to find that Duncan was not in his tent when he arrived yet was informed that he was supposed to wait by his mentor's guards. He practically jumps out of his skin as the flap opens and his mentor strides in.

"Good. You're here." Duncan mutters, walking over toward the chest at the far side of his tent. Alistair watches curiously as he rifles through the contents before shutting it once more. As he rises, he turns and Alistair spots the all too familiar large silver chalice used for the Joining. His brows raise. "Are we having the Joining now?" He frowns.

Duncan shakes his head, brushing past him to place the chalice and a few vials on the table. "Not tonight. Since Ana's brother, Fergus, has finally arrived, she and the other two will be going through the Joining tomorrow night."

Alistair gapes at him. "Fergus is here? Does Ana know?"

"She does." Duncan nods. "Normally we would have done it tonight but I've given Ana some time to spend some quality time with Ser Gilmore and her brother in case she perishes during her Joining." He frowns. "I need you go find Warden Elden. He'll be with the other senior Wardens or with the other mages. Tell him to begin preparations for tomorrow night."

Alistair nods, taking the chalice before disappearing through the flap to do as he's told. With a sigh, Duncan sighs. "Now let us hope that at least one of them survive."

* * *

Following their nuptials, the young newlyweds eagerly return to Gilmore's tent. Pulling aside the flap, Gilmore motions Ana inside. "After you, M'lady."

She giggles and ducks inside. "I can't believe it!" She beams as Gilmore lights the little lantern. "We're actually married!"

As he sets it down, he watches as a tear rolls down her cheek as she looks down at her ring. Turning to her he places one hand on her hip and brings the other up to her cheek. Using his thumb, he wipes away her tear as her luminescent blue eyes meet his.

"What is it, my love?" He frowns. "Are you unhappy?"

Her lower lip trembles as she shakes her head. "No. I would only be unhappy if you ever stopped loving me, Rory.

Moving her hair away from her face, he smiles. "Never. All of Thedas would have to burn to ash before that happens." He leans in and closes the gap as his arms wrap around her, taking care not to not press too hard.

Ana pulls away and Gilmore watches as she removes her bodice before dropping it beside her. Stepping forward, he grabs the ends of her tunic and gently lifts it off before setting it aside.

"I've dreamed of this moment." Roderick says breathlessly, kneeling before her. Her fingers run through his hair as he lifts the end of her undershirt, pressing slow kisses along the waistband of her trousers. Her eyes close and she bites her lip. He stops and looks up at her. "When you left the castle, you were never far from my thoughts. Every night I prayed I would return to you…" He smiles. "I also prayed that one day, you would finally be mine, properly."

Glancing down at him, she smiles. "And now, my dear husband, I am yours."

"And I'm yours." He pulls the string of her trousers and presses a kiss below her navel with each button he undoes before sliding them off.

Ana helps him with his tunic, undershirt and trousers before he lies her back on his bedroll. "Maker… you look like an angel, my love." He breathes. Her short hair is fanned out on the pillow and her long night shirt clings to her body as the lantern illuminates her flushed cheeks.

"Please." Ana whispers as she reaches out for him. "I need you."

He smiles as he kneels before her legs, gently pulling them apart before placing a kiss on the inside of her knee and up the inside of her thigh before crawling between them. He leans down for a kiss before trailing more slow, agonizing kisses along her jaw and neck.

"Rory…" She groans, wrapping her legs around his waist. "Please…"

He chuckles and places another kiss on her lips before smiling. "As you wish."

Positioning himself, he watches as she bites her lip as he takes himself in his hand teases her opening with the slick head of his cock before gently pushing it inside.

Her breath catches and he stops, frowning. "Am hurting you? I know you're still sore."

"A little." She says with a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine. Just try not to touch my side too much. It's still pretty tender."

"Sorry." Putting a hand on either side of her, he slowly pushes himself the rest of the way inside her earning a moan. Careful not to put too much weight on her, he begins pumping in and out between her legs, groaning each time to fully sheathes himself to the hilt inside her.

Unlike their usual couplings, they took their time. Every so often, Roderick stopped his thrusts to plant tender kisses on her lips or along her neck before beginning once more. Aside from Ana's residual tenderness from her attack, everything was perfect.


	39. Hope

The twittering of a bird overhead wakes Ana from her slumber. Groaning, she turns and buries her face in her lover's chest. "Damn birds." She mutters. Gilmore's arm holds her close and she smiles. Opening one eye, she looks up at him and sees his eyes still closed.

Shifting slightly, she presses a kiss to his chest. He takes a deep breath and his eyes flutter open. Looking down at her, he smiles. "Good morning, wife."

"Husband." She chuckles. Shifting onto her elbow, she lifts and presses her lips against his. "The first of many nights together."

He moves his hand, reaching up under her nightshirt and running his hand down her bare back. "I look forward to it." He grins. "Everything about this, right now, just feels... right."

As the light outside the tent brightened, they laid together enjoying the feeling of their bodies, still sensitive from just waking up, intertwined together. Ana lets out a content sigh as she rests her head on his shoulder. Her hand sits on his chest with his thumb tracing comforting circles into the back of her hand.

"What are you thinking?" Roderick mutters, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"I'm thinking about how I want to stay here, just like this in this moment with you, forever." She says. Immediately as she says that, her stomach growls and he chuckles.

"Perhaps we should get up so you can feed that growling belly of yours, my sweet."

"No." She frowns.

He kisses her forehead. "I must insist. Perhaps on the way we can check on Much."

"I also need to go see Hawke and check in with Duncan." She sighs. She glances up at him. "Hawke wanted to check on my injuries."

"That's a good idea." He frowns. "I was worried that you kept wincing during our time together last night."

She shrugs. "It couldn't be helped. Even being sore wouldn't stop me from consummating my marriage." She grins and he chuckles.

After a couple attempts, Roderick finally convinces Ana to get up. They get dressed and once more exit the tent. The chill in the morning air makes Ana shiver and she pulls her cloak closer. Along with a couple other soldiers who shuffle blurry eyed out of their tents, Ana and Roderick start back into the heart of the main encampment. Nearing Duncan's tent, Roderick slows. "Perhaps you should check in with Duncan first?" He suggests. Ana continues walking, shaking her head.

"Not until I know that Much is alright." She says. "Regardless of my father's promise, Much is my first priority."

They reach the hound pens. Some of the dogs are up and barking as people walk by doing their morning duties while a few others either lounge in their pens quietly or continue to sleep. Walking up to Much's pen, Ana frowns as she sees him lying down with his head resting on his paws.

"My poor boy." Ana mutters. Hearing his mistress's voice, he lifts his head with a whine. Unhooking the gate, she ignores Roderick's warning as she comes to sit beside Much. She wraps her arms around his neck and sobs. "I'm so sorry, Much." She sniffs. "I shouldn't have provoked them. If I had just kept my mouth shut…" She trails off as she begins to sob once more. She pulls away slightly and wipes her eyes with the back of her sleeve as he whimpers. "Don't worry, boy." She says as she pets him. "I'm right here."

Lifting his head, he sniffs her and licks her cheek, making her giggle. "Thank you, Much."

Watching Ana with her hound, Roderick smiles. "He's a tough one." He comments. "A complete fruitcake sometimes but so loyal and brave."

Ana looks up at him with a smile. Her stomach growls once more and she feels an overwhelming wave of nausea fall over her. Holding out his hand, Roderick motions with his chin. "Come, my love. Let's let him rest while we eat."

Ana's smile falls as she once more hugs Much, stroking him behind the ears. She plants a kiss on his head. "I'll be right back, Much." She whispers. "I'll even bring you some scaps."

He gives a low bark and she kisses his head once more before rising. As she exited the pen, Much gives a small whine that tugs at Ana's heart as she's ushered away.

"He'll be fine." Roderick says, rubbing her shoulder reassuringly.

"I know." Ana frowns, grabbing his hand. She looks up at him. "I just hate that this all happened." Roderick's brows furrow as she turns and leads him in the opposite direction of the mess tents.

"Ana, where are we going? The mess tent is the other way."

"I know but I still have some things to do."

Heading back to Hawke's campsite, Ana clings to Roderick's side as her eyes sweep the surrounding areas. "This is where it happened, isn't it?" He mutters, holding her close. She nods. As they approach, the camp is empty save Carver who sits beside the campfire, whittling a stick with his knife. It takes him a moment before he notices them.

Hearing a twig snap, his head snaps up and his eyes widen at the sight of them. Dropping the stick, he quickly sheathes his dagger and rises.

"My Lady." He greets with a clumsy bow. "Ser."

Ana looks around impatiently. "Where's Nate?"

Carver straightens, his heart racing as he swallows. "H-he's out….on patrol."

"When will he be back?"

Carver glances at Roderick before shrugging. "I don't know. Later I suppose." He frowns. "How are you feeling? You're certainly looking better."

"Fine." She snips, turning away. "Tell Nate I'm looking for him."

As she begins to walk away, Roderick stays. Her brows furrow.

"What are you waiting for? Let's go."

"I'm sure there's something you need to say to Carver first, my love."

"Like?"

Roderick sighs. "Much?"

She shoots him a glare but turns back around. "Carver."

His eyes widen as she addresses him. He glances over at Roderick who smiles. "Um...yes, My M'lady?"

"I just wanted to say… thank you. I know you were the one who brought Much to the Kennel Master after your brother healed him. I... appreciate it." She pauses, unable to look at him. "Much means a lot to me."

Even though she doesn't see it, he smiles. "You're very welcome. It was the least I could do."

She stiffly nods. After saying their goodbyes, Ana and Roderick start heading back to check in with Duncan. Releasing her hand, Roderick wraps an arm around Ana's shoulders and presses a kiss to her temple. "I'm proud of you." He mutters.

"That was embarrassing." She sneers, looking up at him. "I love you Rory but, husband or not, don't ever embarrass me like that again."

Stopping, he sighs. "Ana, I didn't do it to embarass you."

"Could have fooled me."

He frowns. "Darling, you need to start treating people who help you better. I know right now you're not very trusting given what happened but Nate and his brother have proved to be friends. You'll need them."

Her brows furrow. "Why? I have you." She frowns. "Don't tell me you're going to forsake me."

Stepping forward, he takes her face in his hands, tilting her head so their gazes meet. "Never." He whispers. "But I am just one man. Over time, we'll need allies once Howe realizes that you and Fergus managed to escape. This isn't the castle, Ana. There are no fortified walls to hide behind."

He watched as the fear that she had managed to keep hidden showed in her eyes. "I know., Rory." She says, keeping her voice low. "I'm just so scared."

Leaning in he presses a kiss to her forehead before pulling her into an embrace. "I know, Love." He mutters into her hair. "You'll survive this. Trust me. I'll be right by your side."

* * *

"No, no, no!" Howe exclaims as the decorator places the large tapestry of the Howe's crest in the great hall. "Are you blind? I told you to put it in the center just like the other one was!" Placing his hands on his hips, he shakes his head.

He was happy that the castle was slowly looking less and less like the home of his former rival. At first he liked the idea of being surrounded by Bryce Cousland's former furnishings, relishing in the idea that now it was finally all his. Yet after a while, he could practically feel the eyes of Cousland ancestors burning into him from their golden frames. Regardless of spending years here as Bryce's steward, he felt like nothing but an unwelcome guest. Immediately, he sent for his wife's former favorite designer and furnishings from Amaranthine. He ordered the century old portraits, tapestries and books to be burned and replaced with his own.

"Sir!" A servant says, rushing over to him.

"What is it?" Howe asks irritably, not looking away. "I'm a bit busy."

"Forgive me, Sir. A letter has arrived for you."

He turns his gaze on the lad, looking down his nose with his piercing stare. "From whom?"

The lad's gaze drops to the floor. "I believe it's from your son, Nathaniel, My Lord."

"I'm 'Your Lordship' now." He snaps. "As Teyrn, you should address me correctly." He snatches the letter from the man and breaks the seal. "I imagine he's writing to beg me to allow him back to Ferelden. No matter how many times I tell him that sending him to the Free Marches to squire for the reputable Ser Rodolphe was for his own good, he writes to complain about how hard everything is." He stops as his eyes skim the letter before his brows raise. "Hm." He mutters. "It seems he's finally settling in and has even won a tournament."

The servant shifts uneasily before Howe finally glances up. "Fetch my scribe. We still have work to do."

The servant bows and quickly scurries out the great hall.


	40. The Joining

The day seemed to fly by. The newlyweds checked in with Duncan before eating breakfast together and returning to Gilmore's tent for some final alone time before being summoned to the long anticipated Joining.

The recruits gather in the half ruined pavilion overlooking the valley below. Torches crackle and flicker in the slight breeze as they all awaited Duncan to arrive. Ana glances around, the anxious looks on Gilmore and Jory's faces far from reassuring. She nudges Gilmore. "I'm wishing we would have left when we had the chance." She whispers with a frown. "I don't know what it is, but all this secrecy doesn't sit right with me."

"I wonder if they'll make us fight each other. From what Alistair has been saying, this'll be our final test." Jory mutters.

"I don't want to do this." She hisses as the familiar wave of nausea washes over her. She refrains from gagging as she places a hand on her belly as though that would help settle it. Maker's breath. I'll really have to stick my head into this yolk.

"Good. I'm glad you're all here."

All the recruits turn to see Duncan walk up the stairs and comes to stand before them. Alistair steps forward and they converse quietly before Duncan places a large silver chalice on the stone pedestal near the center of pavilion. Opening a vial of red liquid, the recruits watch as he pours it in before turning to face them.

"Finally, we come to the Joining." He says solemnly, his eyes flicking to each of the worried recruits in turn. "The Grey Wardens were founded during the first Blight, when humanity was on the verge of annihilation."

Alistair risks a glance at the others, his gaze falling on Ana. His jaw tightens. This is it.

"So it was the first Grey Wardens drank of darkspawn blood and mastered their taint."

Ana's eyes widen and she looks over at Alistair with a scathing look before turning to Duncan. "Are you joking? Surely you're joking."

Duncan's expression remains flat as Jory shakes his head. "We're… going to drink the blood of those… those creatures? The same ones whose blood killed Daveth?"

Duncan nods. "As the first Grey Wardens did before us and as we've done before you. This is the source of our power and victory."

Swallowing, Ana grips Gilmore's hand as she looks up at him, her fear reflecting back at her. "Rory…"

"Those who survive the Joining become immune to the taint." Alistair adds. "We use it to sense the darkspawn and use it to slay the archdemon."

Ana's head snaps in Duncan's direction. "Those who survive? What the hell does that mean?"

The look on the elder Warden's face did little to reassure her. "Not all who drink the blood will survive and those who do will be forever changed. It is the price we pay to be able to do what we do." His eyes shift to Ana who grips Gilmore's arm. "This is why the Joining is a secret."

"I don't want to do this, Rory." Ana whispers, her hands and lip trembling as she looks up at him. Tears line her eyes, making her luminescent blue eyes shine even more. "Let's leave. Let's run from here and never look back."

Hearing this, Duncan steps forward and shakes his head. "I'm sorry, Ana, but there is no leaving now. I promised your parents that I would look after you. My protection is limited unless you join the Wardens, as your father promised you would."

"No." She shakes her head violently. "This is my life. I loved my parents dearly but even they have no say now."

"Ana."

She turns to look at her husband's face as he places a hand on hers.

"Sweetheart, we need to be brave." He whispers. "He's right. This is our destiny. He said there's a chance of not surviving. Perhaps we'll be the lucky ones."

"And what if we're not? Or what if only one of us live?" She asks, shaking her head. "I can't and won't live without you!"

The other men watch as the knight turns to face her. Gently caressing her face, he leans in for a tender kiss. "Whatever happens, remember that I always have and always will love you, Ana. You are the light of my life."

Tears free and spill down her cheeks as a choked sob escapes. "I love you too, Rory. Always will."

Pressing a final kiss to her forehead, Gilmore steps back and turns to Duncan with a nod. "I'm ready. I'll go first."

Ana covers her mouth with her sleeve to muffle her sobs but does little to help.

"I admire your sacrifice, Ser Gilmore." Duncan says. "However, we speak only a few words prior to the Joining, the same words that were said by the very first Wardens." He motions to his junior warden. "Alistair, if you would?"

His eyes still on the emotional Ana, Alistair feels his stomach knot up but nods. Bowing his head, he waits as Duncan and the other two men follow suit before clearing his throat.

"Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand, vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn."

He pauses, guilt eating at him as he tries to block out the sobs coming from nearby. Jory looks at her and then Gilmore whose head is still down before he glances worriedly at the giant chalice of blood.

"And should you perish," Alistair continues, "know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten and that one day we shall join you."

He raises his head once more as do the others and he nods to Duncan. Swiveling around, Duncan retrieves the chalice and turns back, his gaze landing on Ser Gilmore. "Ser Gilmore, step forward."

Ana's sobs get louder and he gives her hand a squeeze and sad smile before walking up to Duncan. Taking the chalice, he takes a deep breath to ready himself before tipping it and taking a long drink. He winces at the taste before handing the chalice back. Everyone watches and waits as Gilmore stands there.

The pain starts from deep in his stomach. Ana watches in horror as her lover groans and scratches at his head before he begins screaming and clawing at his skin. As soon as Duncan sees the lad's eyes go pure white, his face drops. Gilmore suddenly stops screaming before finally collapsing onto the cobblestone, his eyes blank and blood streaming down the side of his mouth.

"Rory?" Ana says, her voice small as she watches his lifeless body. Her knees feel weak and she can feel them buckling beneath her as she steps forward. A few feet away, they finally give way and she collapses to her knees as new tears stream down her cheeks. Crawling over to him, her lip quivers as she touches his face. "My love?" She squeaks, knowing well that he can no longer hear her. The sobs she was trying to hold back earlier tear from her throat as she flings her body over Gilmore's chest. Her cries grow in volume and agnony, clinging to him for dear life.

"Maker's breath." Jory mutters, making the sign of the Maker.

"I'm so sorry, Ser Gilmore." Duncan mutters. "You were one of the best and bravest. Your sacrifice will not be in vain." Slowly he turns and Jory begins to back up, his eyes wide and wild looking as he reaches for his sword. "Step forward, Ser Jory."

"But… I have a wife, a child! Had I known…." He stammers, pointing his sword at him.

"As I told Ana, there is no turning back." Duncan says, his gaze darkening.

Jory shakes his head, his head moving back and forth as Alistair and Duncan start toward him.

"Jory, calm down." Alistair says, unhelpfully.

"No! You ask too much!" Jory exclaims. "There's no glory in this!"

Setting aside the chalice, Duncan's gaze stays trained on Jory as he also unsheathes his curved sword at his hip. Jory lunges at him and their swords clash against one another until Duncan is able to run him through. Jory gasps is shock as Duncan holds him close, his expression sympathetic. "I am sorry." He mutters. He pulls his sword out and Jory slumps to the ground with a groan. As blood pools around him, Alistair frowns and looks up as Duncan wipes the blood off onto his sleeve.

"Poor soul." The lad comments.

"You bastard!" Both men turn to see Ana, sitting up with her hair in disarray, her eyes red and Gilmore's blood smeared on her cheek. "Now I see you Wardens for what you really are. You're just murderers!"

"Ana, please try to understand…" Duncan begins calmly before she cuts him off.

"No! Don't try to use your honeyed words. You're a murderer! You just murdered Ser Jory and you…." She stops as she gets choked up. "You killed Ser Gilmore."

"Ana, I am sorry for your loss." Duncan frowns. "I know he meant a lot to you but like I said, this is the price we pay. Now, come forth. It's your turn."

She shakes her head. "Go to hell. There's been enough death for one day."

"Ana…"

"Leave. Me. Alone." She hisses.

With his hand on his sword, Alistair shoots Duncan a wary glance.

"Ana, you must go through the Joining. If you don't…" Duncan begins only to be cut off.

"You'll kill me?" Ana sneers. "Then do it. Get it over with." When Duncan doesn't move, she returns to sobbing over her lover's body.

Tentatively, Alistair moves up beside Duncan. "What should we do?" He whispers.

Duncan watches in silence for a moment before sighing. "Leave her be."

"But Duncan…"

He turns his gaze to meet the lad's. "She will take her Joining. Right now she is wracked with grief." Sheathing his curved sword, he turns around. "Keep an eye on her. I'll be right back."

Alistair's eyes widen with alarm as he opens his mouth to object but his mentor quickly descends down the steps and disappears.

When he returns, he's followed by an equally grim-faced Fergus. They climb the steps to where Alistair is sitting beside a pillar. He looks up as Duncan motions toward Ana who has since stopped crying and was now silently sitting beside Roderick, holding his hand as she stared down at his lifeless body.

She couldn't cry anymore. Her head was pounding and she felt numb. Roderick's hand, which recently was so warm when he touched her face, now felt like ice. Yet she couldn't let go. To let him go would mean that she was one more alone.

Duncan stayed back with Alistair and they watched as Fergus slowly approached his sister.

Kneeling beside her, he touches her shoulder. "Ana," He says softly. "You need to let him go, sweetheart. He's gone."

Without looking away, she shakes her head. "I can't." She whispers. "I can't let go of him."

Reaching out, he places his hand on hers. "Come on. Let go and hold onto me." Holding her hand firmly, he pulls it away from Gilmore's as she chokes back a sob. As Gilmore's lifeless hand falls from hers, she collapses into her brother's chest, her body shaking as she allows her grief to crash over her like a wave. She clings tightly to him for dear life.

He scoops her up in his arms, muttering soothing words and starts over to the where the other men are. Alistair scrambles to his feet.

"I think it'd be best if she stays with me for the meantime." Fergus says. "I'll send somebody to your tent to retrieve her things." As Duncan nods, Alistair watches as Fergus descends down the stairs once more and heads back to the camp. The lad turns a questioning glance to his mentor.

"What if she doesn't return to take her Joining?" He frowns. "She's now aware of what the Joining consists of."

"She'll return." Duncan simply replies. He glances at the lad. "Fergus is aware of his father's promise and is a honorable man. He may not know the dangers associated with the Joining but he will allow her to mourn for her loss and then will convince her to return."


	41. The Weight of Grief

The bright sunlight and radiant colors of the lords' and ladies' tents seemed dull and lost their luster. Ana had little energy yet spent her nights crying in her cot. For the first couple days, she couldn't summon the energy to get out of bed and spent her days lying there, staring up at the canvas. Had it not been for Fergus' concerned urging to leave the tent, she would have remained there to wallow in her pain. Even the return of Much did little to improve her mood.

For the 3rd time today, a wave of nausea washed over her. Regardless of having been out in the chantry tent all morning, she made no effort to go to the mess hall to eat for fear of embarrassing herself by vomiting in front of servants and soldiers. With no food in her stomach, she expels bile as she dry heaves into a chamber pot. Sitting back, she weakly wipes her mouth.

The tent flap opens and Much raises his head as a hand emerges. "Are you decent, My Lady?" Hawke calls from the other side.

Ana's eyes widen and she quickly pulls her blanket around her. "Come in."

Nate ducks inside and Ana notices the bowl in his hand. She feels her cheeks burn, knowing how terrible she must look. She averts her eyes. "Forgive me for receiving you like this." She says. "I'm not feeling well."

Even though she doesn't see it, he smiles. "So I've heard. Fergus said that you haven't been eating much." He strides forward and motions to the ground. "May I?"

Ana looks at where he motions and nods. Sitting down cross-legged a foot away, he carefully sets the bowl to the side. He watches her for a moment. Bags had begun to form under her eyes along with dark circles. Her skin, which normally was a lovely cream color without a single blemish was now pale with a thin sheen of sweat.

"I take it you heard about Rory?" She asks.

Pursing his lips, he nods. "Yes. I heard a day after Carver said you came to see me. I was hoping you'd stop by later but when you didn't show, I asked about you to your brother." He frowns. "I'm so sorry, Ana."

"Yeah. Me too."

"For what it's worth, My Lady, you will always have me as a loyal friend if you ever need to talk." He motions to Much. "You may even bring Much. It'll be a pleasant change from my brother's dreary company." He offers a smile but it falls as he gets little response from her. Sighing, he reaches for the bowl. "Anyways, I brought you some broth. Hopefully you'll be able to keep that down. If anything, it'll ensure you have at least something in your stomach."

She turns to look at the bowl and feels her stomach knot up. At this point, she couldn't tell if it was her hunger mixed with her lack of food or if it was just her stomach's refusal to cooperate. "You're too kind." She mutters.

"Nonsense. It's the least I can do." As she looks up, he smiles. "I know you're going through difficult times right now but I was told to inform you that the Grey Wardens had a funeral for Roderick and another recruit. It was a nice service. Fergus spoke on Roderick's behalf and lit the pyre-"

A pained look crosses Ana's face as she flinches. The thought of her lover being burned on a pyre was too much to bear. "Nate, please…" She whispers. "Don't tell me the details."

He nods. "Of course. My apologies, My Lady."

Her thoughts wanders to food once more and she can feel the bile making its way up her esophagus. She inhales a shaky breath and Hawke eyes her sympathetically.

"Perhaps you should have a little broth and rest." He suggests, rising. He holds out his hand to her. "Here. Take my hand. I'll help you back into your cot."

She shakes her head. "No. I doubt my stomach will allow much. Everytime I try to eat, it repels it."

"Have you seen a physician?"

The wave of nausea passes and she opens her eyes to look at him. "No." She shakes her head. "Fergus has suggested it many times but I've seen little use. It should pass."

Hawke frowns. "Perhaps you should be seen, just in case. During times like these, you never know if something can be more serious than you suspect." He shrugs. "At the very least, they be able to mix you up something to ease your nausea and help you sleep."

It was tempting.

Hawke suddenly smiles. "Do you hunt, My Lady?"

The question is so random that she's caught off guard. "What?"

"Do you hunt?" He repeats. "Being a Ferelden noble, I imagine you've been hunting before."

Her brows furrow. "Of course. I used to hunt with my father and brother. What-"

"Wonderful! How would you like to join me on a hunt tomorrow?" He pauses but when she doesn't reply, he continues. "Rest assured, I never venture out too far. I mostly want to go check on my snares and get away from camp for a little while. Surely you could use time away as well?"

"I don't know…" she frowns. "I doubt my stomach will be much better."

"I'll get you something for your nausea. What do you say?"

Risking a look, she glances up through her lashes at him. "Can I bring Much?"

Hearing his name, Much raises his head. He lowers his head just enough to tap her arm with his nose and licks her hand. She smiles down at him. "He's been cooped up in here with me the past couple days. While the rest is good for him, I imagine he'd find it far more enjoyable to chase a squirrel or two."

"Of course." He chuckles. "So, may I count on you to join me tomorrow?"

Ana bites her lip as she thinks about this. In all honesty, getting out of camp and away from all the sympathetic looks of her brother and others would be a nice change. She takes a deep breath before nodding. "Yes." She says, looking up at him.

Hawke's face lights up with a huge grin. "Wonderful! I shall meet you at the center of the main encampment at first light." He says, sweeping back toward the flaps of the tent. He pushes it opens and gives her a wink. "Don't be late."And then disappears through the flaps.

* * *

Surprisingly, the broth Hawke brought the previous night stays down and actually settles her stomach a little. Rising from her cot the next morning, she still felt queasy and weak from the days spent retching into a chamberpot. Pulling the new thick, woolen cloak Fergus gifted to her around herself, she motions for Much to join her. As usual, her first stop was the chantry tent to kneel before Andraste and pray for the strength to go on. Yet this day, she prayed that the Maker would also bless Hawke with his hunt and for his kindness toward her. Rising once more, she starts back toward the center of camp.

The smell of breakfast wafted over toward her from the mess tents and she felt her stomach knot up. Placing a hand over her mouth, she closes her eyes and takes a couple deep breaths until the feeling subsides. When she opens her eyes, she spots Hawke starting toward her.

"I'm glad to see you're up and about, My Lady." He grins. He shoulders his pack and slings his bow across his torso. Approaching her, he reaches into his pack and for a moment before holding up a small vial. Ana eyes it suspiciously.

"What is that?" She grimaces.

"For you." He simply states. He holds it out to her. "Here. This should help with your nausea for the time being."

She reluctantly takes it and removes the cork to smell it, her brows furrowing. "I don't smell anything."

"Given that certain smells can trigger nausea, I imagine that is a good thing, is it not?" He smiles and she feels the heat rise to her cheeks. He motions for her to drink and she complies. Tasteless, it's oddly cold as it pours down her throat, which is still a little raw from all her heaving, before a warmth spreads within her belly and any hint of nausea seemed to fade away. Her brows raise as she hands him back the empty vial.

"Thank you." She breathes. "Where did you get that?"

Taking the vial, he puts the cork back in it and returns it to his pack with a grin. "Since arriving here, I have become good friends with a mage who is talented with mixing assorted herbs." He shrugs. "Without telling your name, I told her I had a friend who would benefit greatly from a potion to help ease their stomach."

Ana smiles. "Perhaps you can introduce me to her later? I would like to thank her in person. I haven't felt this well in quite a while."

"You'll always either find her in the infirmary or with the other mages. She's usually the one running things so it's hard to miss her." He motions for her to follow.

Hawke starts walking and Ana silently falls into step beside him. As they begin to approach the forest stretching outward, Hawke finally speaks.

"My Lady." He says, turning to look at her. "May I ask you something?"

She nods. "Sure? You may just call me Ana, if you wish."

He smiles. "Very well. If you don't mind my asking, Ana, how did Ser Gilmore pass? The news of his death was shocking to say the least. When we last spoke, he seemed well enough." His smile falls. "Did something happen while he was in the wilds?"

Ana remains quiet as she turns over her possible responses in her mind. Hawke seemed to be more than capable of keeping a secret but should she reveal the secrets of the Joining? After all, it was that which killed him.

"Ana?" Hawke says as she doesn't reply. He frowns. "Forgive me. I should learn to reign in my curiosity."

Ana shakes her head. "It's fine." She says quietly. "He...he didn't die in the wilds; It unfortunately happened after he returned." She pauses. She slows her pace and leans against a nearby tree. "He was murdered."

Hawke's eyes widen. "Really? Do you know by whom?"

The Grey Wardens. She slowly nods. "By those whom I trusted the most."

As their eyes meet, tears begin to form as she slides down to sit at the base of the tree.

"Oh, Ana…" Hawke mutters. She crosses her arms over her knees and buries her face in her arms as her shoulders shake. He kneels beside her. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he gives it a light squeeze. "I am so sorry. I know losing a loved one, especially one you're close to is never easy."

Sniffing, she raises her head. Her bright blue eyes are ringed with red but sparkle in the light. "Somebody you loved died?" She asks, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

He nods. "My father. Three years ago."

"I'm ...so sorry. How?" She asks. "If you don't mind me asking."

Hawke smiles as he stands up. He holds out his hand. "Come. I'll tell you as we walk."

Looking at his hand, she sniffs once more before accepting it. He pulls her to her feet and motions for them to continue. "He was sick for months." He begins. "In the beginning, it seemed like he was just a little under the weather. He ran a small clinic in Lothering, you see-"

"Lothering. Is that where you're from?" She asks, earning a nod.

"For the most part." He smiles. "We moved around a lot. Since my parents arrived in Ferelden when my mother was pregnant with me, they've constantly been dodging templars."

Ana stops, her brows furrowing. "Your parents were apostates?"

"Just my father. He was originally from Ferelden and was taken to the Circle in Kirkwall within the Free Marches when he was young. It's… a very long story."

They continue walking in silence. As Ana looks around them for signs of game, Hawke watches her. "Ana?"

She turns to look at him, her brow raising.

"Since we are fairly out of earshot, may I ask you something?"

Regardless of her trust in Hawke, being alone with a man made her heart race as flashes of her attack replay in her mind. "That depends on what it has to do with."

He stops and touches her hand to make her stop as well. "Forgive me but it has to do with Ser Gilmore."

She feels her throat thicken and tears threaten to fall at the mention of his name but she nods. "Okay."

"Ser Gilmore died during his Joining, didn't he?"

Her eyes widen as her brows knit together. "How...?"

"It's a long story but my father once had dealings with the Grey Wardens. One of the younger recruits told him about the ritual one night while sitting around camp. The Wardens even tried to recruit me in the past but my father refused since not everybody who takes part in the ritual survives." He sighs. "And being that I was going to eventually be the eldest male of my family, it would have been foolish to challenge those odds."

"I see." Wanting to push any thoughts of the Joining away, Ana changes the subject. "I apologize for cutting you off earlier. What was it you were telling me about your father?"

"It's alright." He chuckles. "I was just saying that my father ran a small clinic in Lothering once we were finally safe enough from templars. Early on he caught a fever and was having night sweats, which we assumed was from him being around the sick every day." He gives a small shrug. "With each passing day, he started getting weaker and developed a cough that we later found to be tinged with blood."

Ana stops once more. "Consumption?"

Stopping, he nods. "You've seen it before?"

Ana shakes her head. "No but I've heard about it in my studies."

Hawke nods. "It's a terrible way to die. For several years, my mother tried everything to save him. For several long months we watched as he suffered and wasted away before our eyes."

"I'm so sorry, Nate." She frowns. "That had to be horrible." She starts to reach out to touch his hand as a comforting gesture before pulling it away as she's hit with a pang of guilt.

"It was but with time, I was able to eventually move on. It was tough but I did it." He nudges her. "With time, you will too."

"I doubt it." She mutters. "Everything has been taken from me. My family, the love of my life…"

"You still have Much and Fergus." Hawke points out. "I know it's not the same but when things get hard, just remember that you still have people to turn to." He offers her a smile. "Unfortunately, grief doesn't have a specific timeline but, while I may not be family, I'm here for you when you need some help."

Despite everything, her lips curl up into a small smile. "Thank you, Nate."


	42. Reluctance

Duncan tries to focus on his reports but his fidgeting junior Warden at the corner of his eye proves to be too much of a distraction. Giving up after reading the same sentence for the 5th time, he sighs. "Yes, Alistair?"

The lad purses his lips but can barely refrain from shifting from one leg to the other. He looks down at the ground like a scolded child.

"Go on." Duncan urges, his patience running thin. "Speak your mind."

Alistair glances up, his cheeks burning. "It's been a week since the Joining." He says.

"And?"

"And there's been no sign of Ana." He frowns. "What if she left Ostagar? She knows what the Joining entails…"

Duncan smiles. "If I was not mistaken, I'd think you were smitten with the young Cousland." Duncan teases. He smirks as the lad blanches.

"What? No." Alistair quickly says. "I mean, she's beautiful but…" As Duncan raises an amused brow, he looks down. "Maker's breath… I'm just worried about what she'll do with the information." He looks up at his mentor. "We killed Ser Jory for refusing to go through the Joining yet leave Ana alive…"

"So, you wish to see her killed?" Duncan asks.

Alistair frowns. "No, but it's odd that she's been made an exception. I know you said her brother promised to help but still."

Rising from his seat, Duncan strides over to the lad and places a hand on his shoulders. "As always, I admire your dedication to the Wardens but you need not worry yourself." He removes his hands. "It's true that many are killed when they learn of what the Joining consists of and then try to back out but unlike Ser Jory, Ana is an exception."

"Why?"

As the lad looks at him, Duncan smiles. Such fierce allegiance. He's so much like his mother. "It's complicated." He says with a rueful look. "Even so, I need you to trust me. I've been in my position for decades, Alistair. You should know better than most that I would never forsake my duty to the Wardens."

"I know." Alistair frowns. "Even if we can't kill her, what do we do? Should we have the tents all over Ostagar searched?"

Duncan shakes his head as he gives a dismissive wave. "There's no need. Fergus has been keeping me updated on her whereabouts and condition." Striding over to the large chest at the foot of his bed, Duncan perches himself on it and folds his arms over his chest. "She's not our concern right now. For the time being, we need to focus on training."

"But-"

Duncan motions toward the tent flaps with his chin. "Go on. Head to the training field. I'll be there in a few."

Seeing he's not going to get any more answers, Alistair nods. He rises from his chair and salutes the elder Warden before turning and striding out the tent.

* * *

"Dammit." Hawke mutters, rising. His eyes search the surrounding areas for tracks as Ana glances down at the snare he was just examining.

"No luck with that one either, huh?" She asks. With a defeated sigh, Hawke shakes his head and places his hands on his hips. He squints through the sunlight overhead. He suddenly turns to her.

"Looks like we'll get to shoot something after all." He smiles. "Can you shoot?"

Ana's eyes shift to look at the beautiful recurve bow slung across his torso. "Not really." She shrugs. "As a noblewoman, I never really used weapons. Normally I would ride out with my father, brother and other nobles with a company of dogs and my own hawk. I rarely left my horse. The animals did most of the work."

"Where's the fun in that?"

She shoots him a look. "The purpose for me was never to really hunt anything; Not for me at least. It was a chance for me to entertain and impress suitors." She sighs and absently twists her parents' ring around her finger. "Not that it mattered. I refused to accept any of the men paraded before me." Her gaze shifts to the ground. "Look how much good that did me. The one man I loved and my family are dead; I'm alone."

Hawke watches her before reaching out to touch her shoulder. "It wasn't your fault, Ana."

He's caught off guard as she raises her gaze to meet his. "Do you believe in fate, Nate?"

His brows furrow as he thinks about this. "I'm not really sure." He admits.. "It depends on how you define it."

"I mean do you believe that everything, good or bad, happens because our lives are fated to go one way or another since the day we're born?" She pauses for a moment, looking out at the landscape thoughtfully. "I've often wondered…" She trails off.

"What?" Hawke urges.

She self-consciously tucks a lock of her short hair behind her ear with a shrug. "I can't help but wonder if I had tried to fight back, would I have had a chance to save any of them." She glances down at her hands. "I knew something seemed off about Howe and yet I did nothing to prevent it." She feels her throat tighten. "I….I was made aware of the risks of the Joining before Rory went through with it and yet I just stood there. I didn't even try to fight it."

Hawke shrugs. "From what I hear about Joinings, even if you had objected, it would have happened anyways. No recruit escapes their Joining."

"I did." She points out.

"Maybe for now." Hawke shrugs once more. "Did they say why they spared you?"

Thinking about this, she slowly shakes her head. "I don't remember. I don't think so. I imagine it has something to do with my bloodline or something."

"Or, maybe you're fated to be a Warden."

Ana's brows furrow and Hawke smiles. She feels the heat rise to her cheeks and quickly straightens. "So, what will we be hunting?"

"I've seen a few deer around recently. It'll provide a fair amount of food and other materials. The quartermaster is always looking for people to bring in pelts for leather armor and the kitchens can always use more food."

He shrugs off his pack and sets it down at the base of a nearby tree. He removes his bow from around him and holds it out to her, smiling as she eyes it warily.

"It won't bite, I promise." He chuckles.

"It's not that." She frowns. "I told you I've never shot before. You can just shoot…"

Shaking his head, he takes a step forward.

"No. This is a lesson. Before we can hunt, you need to learn how to shoot." He smiles. "I believe that men and women should all know how to at least hunt. Life is unpredictable and it's good to at least have the skill to feed yourself."

"I've never even held a bow before."

"Well, now's your a chance." He grins. He waits as she hesitantly take the bow. He watches her a moment as she turns it over in her hand. "Right or left?"

She looks up at him, puzzled. "What?"

"Are you right or left-handed?"

"Does that matter?" She inquires as Hawke kneels down by his pack and removes this strange looking piece of leather with straps. He rises and turns to face her.

"It does, actually. I'm right handed myself so my bow is a right handed bow."

She glances down at the bow curiously. Maybe it was from the angle she looking at it but she couldn't tell what could make it for one hand or the other. Mimicking what she's seen Fergus do countless times during training, she awkwardly holds the bow in her right hand and draws with her left.

"Wrong way!" Hawke chuckles, touching her arm to make her lower the bow. He motions for her to switch hands before stepping forward with the leather strip. He motions toward her hand. "May I?"

She nods and her heart pounds as he gently pushes her sleeve up to her elbow. Her eyes flick upwards to watch him as he puts the little loop at the end around her ring finger, pausing for a moment as he notices her ring. "This is a vambrace." He says, turning her arm over. "This goes on the nondominant hand and protects your arm from the friction of the string when you shoot." He fastens the brace surprisingly quick.

He reaches back and retrieves an arrow from his quiver and holds it out to her. Carefully taking from him, she nocks the arrow and draws the string back with her right hand. She can feel her arm shaking slightly as she awaits for him to tell her she's doing something wrong. Much to her relief, Hawke smiles. "Very good. Now…"

He pulls out a dagger from his belt and she flinches, lowering the bow as she automatically backs up. Hawke's smiles falls and he holds up his other hand in peace. "It's alright."

Her heart races in her chest but she tightly nods. "I know. Sorry."

"No need to apologize. I should have known better than to just pull it out after what you've been through." He says, flashing her a half smile. He motions with his head toward the trees. "How about you take a couple practice shots before we head out to find some game?"

Ana nods and watches Hawke as he walks over to a tree a few yards ahead of her. Using his dagger, he prys off a strip of bark. Examining his work, he nods and sheathes his dagger before turning to her.

"Try to aim for that bare spot I just made." He stands off to the side as she quickly raises the bow and draws. "Wait!" He calls, jogging over. As he gets closer, he picks up on her tense demeanor and slows before coming to stand beside her. "You have the right idea but are moving too quickly." He motions toward her. "If I may?"

She can feel her breathing become ragged but nods. She becomes increasingly aware of his body as it comes near hers. Wrapping an arm around her, he places one gently on her hand gripping the bow and touches the back of her hand on the strings. Feeling his warm breath on her neck, she tries to push away the overwhelming craving to be held, kissed and touched. She feels the tears threatening to form and tries to focus on the task at hand.

"Easy now." He says softly. "I know it's hard but relax."

Only after he said this did she notice that her knuckles were white from how firmly she grasped the stave. She feels the heat rise to her cheeks and mutters an apology as she relaxes her hand.

Hawke adjusts her other arm and looks out toward the tree marking.

"Now, don't just let fly just yet." He instructs. "With a bow, the eye is more important than the hand."

"I didn't know the eye could shoot arrows." Ana mutter, earning a chuckle from him that made her relax slightly.

"Can you imagine? If eyes could do that, I'd be dead by now by the amount of deadly stares I receive from my brother on a daily basis." He laughs. "Anyways, you need to see your target and understand what you're aiming for."

Ana looks at her target in the distance and closes one eye as she tries to line it up. Hawke gently squeezes her drawing hand to signal for her to shoot and she lets it fly. She watches in awe as the arrow embeds itself into the tree and she gasps.

"I did it!" She breathes, turning to smile at Hawke. "I hit it!"

"Good job. Now practice a few more times and we'll head out." He says, pulling his quiver off his back and handing it to her. "You'll be hunting in no time."

* * *

The candle at Duncan's desk had already burned down a quarter of the way by the time Fergus Cousland was announced by his guards. Rising from his seat, he motions for them to let him in. He awaits as the young lord strides into his tent, saluting him formally.

"I received your summons. You said you had some important things to speak with me about?"

"I do." Duncan nods. Walking over toward the decanter of wine, he pours himself a glass along with one for his guest before offering him one. Fergus accepts it and takes a sip as he waits for the older man to continue. "As you're aware, our time here at Ostagar is uncertain. Signs of darkspawn corruption have been spotted by scouts but there have been very few darkspawn spottings and the King is beginning to wonder if this truly is a Blight."

Fergus lowers his glass. "And what do you think? Do you believe that it's a true blight after all these years?"

"I do."

"How do you know?"

Duncan's mouth curls upwards slightly. "We Wardens always know. There are things that we have the ability to do." He glances at his wine before setting it down on the nearby table. "Regardless of what I know, it's still unclear of when or how many darkspawn we will be facing when the time comes. With our timeframe still unknown, it is vital that I begin to train all my newest Wardens."

In the back of his mind, Fergus knew that this would eventually come up. He nods. "And I'm assuming you summoned me here because you want my sister to go through her Joining and fulfill my father's promise to you, correct?"  
"Yes." Duncan nods. "The sooner, the better. While I know that she is still wracked with grief over the death of Ser Gilmore, it's best for her to get this over and done with."

Fergus takes a seat in the nearby chair and turns this over in his mind. His gaze meets Duncan's.

"What are the odds?"

"Of?"

Fergus leans forward, his mouth set in a line. "Come on. It's obvious that whatever this Joining is, there's a chance of a recruit dying. While the common story told was that Ser Gilmore had caught something out in the Wilds, we both know the truth." The corners of his mouth turn downward as he exhales. "I will respect your order's secrecy code surrounding it but at least tell me her odds of surviving."

"I can't." Duncan replies. "If I tell you, you may stop Ana from fulfilling her destiny."

Fergus's brows knit together. "Are you questioning my honor?" He asks, taken back. "While I may not agree with this decision, I have no intention of breaking my father's final promise he made to you. I just want to know if preparations should be made for her. Regardless of Howe's treachery and his siege of our home, we're still Couslands. She deserves a proper funeral for a woman of her ranking." He folds his arms over his chest. "Now tell me what her odds are of surviving. As she is my last surviving family, I have a right to know."

Duncan quietly thinks this over as he absently rubs his beard. Finally, he sighs.

"It's hard to say but I'd say that she has about a 50/50 chance."

Leaning to one side of his chair, Fergus covers his mouth with his hand thoughtfully. While it was better odds than he was expecting, the reality that it could go either way was far from reassuring. While he wanted to respect his father's final wish, could he really live with himself if he sent Ana willingly to her death?

Setting his cup on the table, he abruptly rises from his seat. Duncan simply glances at him, unperturbed.

"One more day." Fergus says as he feels his throat run dry. "I'll give her more day to grieve and then…" he breaks off, looking away at the canvas. "Then I'll see what I can do."

Striding toward the entrance, he disappears without looking back.


	43. One Last Time

It was all therapeutic. Every morning, Ana rose from her bed and drank one of the vials Hawke left for her to help with the damned nausea that seemed to never leave her. After, she'd spend the a portion of her morning in the chantry tent in prayer before meeting with Hawke at the mess tent. Grief still tugged at her and weighed her down but Hawke's light-hearted demeanor and shameless flirting were oddly comforting in the past week.

Ana breaks her hard roll in half. Normally she would have rather gone hungry than eat the food offered in camp but after barely being able to keep anything down for a week, the hard bread and thick stew was a welcome change.

Ana's eyes flick up to watch Nate as he shoveled the stew in his mouth. A sad smile forms as she's reminded of Roderick when he first arrived in camp. The rabbit Hawke offered to him didn't last long as he wolfed it down.

Feeling her gaze, he pauses and looks up at her. "Have I offended you with my barbaric manner, my lady?" He smirks.

She shakes her head. "No. You just remind me of Rory." She says, the tears pricking her eyes. She swallows and sighs. "Sorry."

"Don't be."

Looking down at the stew in her bowl, she felt her stomach knot up. "Fergus spoke of the damn Joining again."

Hawke raises a brow. "Oh?"

She nods. "For a week now, he's been hinting at our father's promise and how I have an obligation." She frowns. "It's apparent that he doesn't like it any more than I do but... I'm scared, Nate."

He nods sympathetically. "Death is scary."

Ana shakes her head. "It's not so much the death part. When Rory died, he was in such agony. His screams…" She covers her mouth as tears begin to form. Nate reaches out and places a hand on hers comfortingly. She glances down before pulling away from him. As thankful as she was for his company, it still felt odd to take comfort in his touch, no matter how friendly it was.

"Perhaps..." Nate begins before trailing off. Ana raises a brow.

"What?"

His dark blue eyes meet hers and she sees the hesitation. He sighs. "I was going to say that perhaps you can take something to numb the pain." He shrugs. "Although, I doubt there's anything that will dull the pain of darkspawn taint. If there was, I'm sure the Wardens would have already been using it."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that." Ana mutters bitterly. "They probably get off on it." With a sigh of her own, she abruptly rises to which Hawke looks up at her expectantly. "Well, thank you for everything, Nate. Seeing as I have little to live for these days, I might as well get it over with." Before Nate can respond, Ana becks Much at her feet and starts walking away.

* * *

After parting with Hawke following their meal, Ana's heart pounds in her chest as she makes a beeline to Duncan's tent. Without waiting for Duncan's guards to announce her or ask permission, she strides through the entrance with Much at her heels.

Duncan's brows jump up as he sees her. Much to her embarrassment, he wasn't alone.

Cailan, who only moments ago was finding himself falling asleep as Loghain described in excruciating detail his plans for training the soldiers and possible strategies for the battle, eyed her with amusement while the other men glared at her.

Before Duncan can speak, Cailan smiles at the welcome distraction.

"Ah, Lady Cousland. What a wonderful surprise."

Ana's cheeks burn as she dips into a curtsy. "Forgive me, your Majesty. I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Yet you did." Loghain sneers. He lets out an annoyed sigh as Cailan dismissively waves his comment away.

"Nonsense, my dear." He says cheerfully, motioning for her to rise. "It's always wonderful to see you."

"Ana, is what you need an urgent matter?" Duncan asks, levelly.

Her eyes flick between the men before returning to Duncan and she shakes her head.

"I just came to speak of Warden matters."

"Then you can wait outside. I will inform my guards of when you may enter."

"Or we can hold our talks at bay for now." Cailan says, winking at her. "I'm quite famished anyways so we can reconvene afterwards."

Both Duncan and Loghain begin to argue but Cailan raises a hand and that's the end of it. Loghain mutters something under his breath as Cailan rounds the the table to stand before Ana. Taking her hand, he presses a kiss to the back of it as he lifts his eyes to meet hers.

"I hope to see you again soon, my dear." He practically purrs before releasing her hand. "Perhaps one of these nights, you will join me for supper and perhaps some entertainment?"

Ana feels her cheeks burn but she bows her head. "I would be honored, Your Majesty. Thank you."

Ana stands there awkwardly as both the king and his commander exit the tent along with the various other members of the king's entourage.

For a long time, neither of them say anything. Reigning in his irritation, Duncan finally speaks. "It's been quite a while since we last spoke." He says. "How have you been?"

"I've been better." Ana replies. "Afterall, I did recently lose the love of my life after losing almost all of my family and being run out of my home."

It came off as bitter sarcasm which Duncan didn't seem too pleased with. Regardless, he said nothing about it.

"As I'm sure Fergus has told you, I've asked him to convince you to finally go through your Joining."

"I've heard." She raises her chin slightly. "Before I give my answer, what if I refuse?"

She felt a chill run up her spine as his gaze darkens.

"Now that we know that Fergus is alive and well, I believe you saw the answer to that during the last Joining."

While she expected such an answer, to actually hear it from his lips was shocking. Her jaw drops. "You'd kill me?"

Duncan nods, his expression betraying his regret. "It is never something I wish to do but the way of our Order requires the Joining ritual to remain a secret, at all costs." Noting her reaction, his expression softens. "What happened to Ser Jory was unfortunate…"

"Unfortunate?" Ana hisses. "You murdered him!"

"He drew his weapon and refused to partake in the ritual."

Ana's eyes flashed. "He was scared! We all saw how much agony Rory was in. The very thought of that already makes me not want to do it!" She balls her fists at her side. Much picks up on the tension between them and his ears flatten against his head and he bears his teeth with a menacing growl. Duncan ignores him as he watches the grief begin to peek through her hardened expression. "I have to know; Why was I spared?"

The elder warden's brows furrow. "What?"

"Both Jory and I expressed our refusal to take the Joining yet he was killed and I was not. Why?"

He shrugs. "Like I said, he drew a weapon."

"So if I pulled out a dagger, I'd be dead too?"

Duncan remains silent and she strides up to him, making Much growl menacingly at the Warden. She narrows her eyes at him.

"Answer me!" She hisses. Even as his gaze pierces through her, he doesn't utter the reason that hung between them; Without knowing how to wield a weapon, she would not have been much of a threat.

Angry tears begin to prick the back of Ana's eyes as Much begins flat out barking. Unable to take it, she snaps at Much to stop. Her hound immediately stops and looks up at her with its big brown eyes. Seeing her expression, he whines and nudges her hand gently with his snout before licking it. Guilt grips her and she collapses to her knees before him and wraps her arms around him, burying her face in his fur.

"I'm so sorry." She mutters. As she pulls away to wipe away the rogue tears that broke free, he licks her face. A hint of a smile forms as she brings up her hand to scratch him behind his ears lovingly.

Duncan clears his throat and her smile fades. Decision time.

Pressing a kiss to her hound's forehead, she rises once more to face him. "Fine." She sniffs, wiping her face with her sleeve,

Duncan raises a brow. "Fine?"

She nods; "I'll go through your Joining." Turning her gaze to Much, her expression softens. "I am a single flame surrounded by the ashes of my former life anyways." She mutters. She turns her gaze onto him once more. "With luck, perhaps my suffering will come to an end and I will become ashes as well."

Before Duncan can respond, Ana motions for Much to follow and leaves the tent.

* * *

"You're starting to look better."

Ana looks up from her book as Fergus enters the smiles at her. "Well, you're looking better."

She shrugs. "The potions that Hawke has been giving me seem to be helping." She sits up and watches as Fergus removes his cloak and boots. "I spoke with Duncan."

He pauses with his boots still in hand. "Yeah?"

She nods. "I'm going through with Father's promise. I'll be taking my Joining for the Wardens."

Fergus turns away from her as he feels grief grip his heart. "I see." He manages to say with an even voice. "When will that take place?"

She waits a moment before responding. "I have no idea. I imagine he needs a couple days or so to prepare." As she says this, she envisions the chalice and its revolting contents. Her stomach lurches and she takes a deep breath to calm it.

Much nudges her hand and she smiles sadly at him. "Fergus?"

She glances up as he turns around. "Yes?"

"If anything should happen to me-"

He flinches as though struck; "Ana, don't-"

Her lower lip trembles as she places a hand on Much's head and continues. "If anything should happen to me, promise me you'll take care of Much."

When Fergus looks at her again, his blue eyes are bright with unshed tears. He hesitantly nods. "I will."

Setting her book aside, she jumps up from her cot and strides over, embracing her brother. So it begins.

* * *

Ana felt the icy breath of death on her neck, sending a chill down her spine as she gazed down at the neat handwriting. When she had awakened, she could already feel the dread that sat in her stomach like a lump of cold fat which did little for the wave of nausea that had become her constant companion. WIth shaking hands, she retrieves one of Hawke's vials and knocks it back. Immediately after swallowing, she collapsed onto her bed as sobs wracked her body.

Following her talk with Duncan where she agreed to continue with her Joining, she believed that she would have at the very least a week to prepare herself. Yet as she sat up on her cot, the remainder of what little sleep she managed to have still clinging to her eyes, she found the neatly sealed parchment with her death warrant inside.

Managing to pull herself out of Fergus' tent, she absently walks to the mess tent, oblivious to her surroundings as they pass by in a blur. It isn't until she's woken from her trance by Nate's concerned urging. She blinks at him as though seeing him for the first time.

"Ana, are you alright?" He frowns. "You're looking a bit pale."

She nods. "I'm fine." She says quietly.

"Are you sure? I greeted you but you looked straight through me."

Her brows furrow slightly. "Oh…. I'm sorry."

Her eyes cast downward to see the bowl and wooden cup on the table before her. She couldn't remember getting food, nor sitting down. Her eyes widen and she glances around herself frantically as Hawke watches with a concerned expression on his handsome face. "What's wrong?"

Finally seeing her hound lying under the table near her feet, she lets out a sigh of relief. Thank the Maker.

"Ana?"

She looks up to meet his gaze. "Sorry. I was worried that I lost Much or something."

Hawke's frown deepens. "Has something happened? You don't seem yourself."

With a sigh, she nods. "Last night I spoke with Duncan."

"And?"

Ana swallows as her eyes cast downward. "I agreed to go through with Joining."

Hawke purses his lips. "I see." There's a long pause. "When?"

When she looks up at him once more, he sees her eyes brimmed with tears. "Tonight." Her lip trembles. "This could be our last breakfast together. You've been such a wonderful friend to me-"

Hawke shakes his head. "Don't talk like that."

"Why not? You said so yourself; Not many survive the Joining."

"You might."

She scoffs at this before sniffing. Bringing her sleeve up, she wipes her eyes. "Anyways, I have a request for you."

"Anything. Name it and it's yours."

Reaching across the table, she touches his hand before meeting his gaze. "When it's time for my Joining, will you please look after Much? I feel like it would be best for him not to be there."

Nate stiffly nods. "Of course."

"And…" Her voice catches. "And if I perish, I want you to bring him to my brother. If I can leave Fergus with just one thing to remember me by, it's Much."

Hearing his name, Ana feels Much raise his head and lick her hand beneath the table.  
"Please promise me." She sniffs.

Nate smiles sadly as he places his other hand on hers. "I promise."

She returns his smile. "Thank you, Nate." She wipes her eyes once more. "So, what would you say to hunting together one last time?"

He gives a low chuckle. "I doubt it'll be our last but sure. Let's do it."


	44. The Ultimate Sacrifice

A/N: *******PLEASE READ THIS WARNING BEFORE CONTINUING ON WITH THE CHAPTER!*******

Hello! It's finally time for Ana's Joining! However, before that happens, I feel like I should put out a disclaimer. Within this chapter, there is a slightly descriptive scene that might be triggering to some. It's a little graphic. Due to this, I will signal that the graphic parts are about to happen by putting **** before and after the scene for those who wish to skip that part. I will totally understand if people skip reading the gory details. You won't miss much since Ana is told what happened later on, only without all the gross details. Other than that, Enjoy! :)

* * *

A chill wind whipped and whistled through the crumbling pavillion making the torches flicker ominously. It felt odd to stand in the same place that Rory had died. Ana could still see the blood that now looked brown on the cobblestones near where Jory's blood pooled around his body after collapsing. She feels the bile rise in her throat and closes her eyes.

Duncan stood only feet away beside the stone pedestal where he stood silently like a statue, watching Ana for signs that she's preparing to flee.

"For what it's worth, I'm proud of you, Ana." He says. "You're doing the right thing."

As her gaze swivels to look at him, she glowers at him. "I'm not doing this for you." She spits. "I'm doing this for my father, Rory and my country because, unlike you, they've never murdered people in cold blood nor betrayed my trust."

Duncan purses his lips. Where is that damned lad with the chalice?

As Ana turns away from him, she places a hand on her stomach. Regardless of taking the potion to help with nausea earlier, now her stomach was in knots and the thought of drinking from the chalice made her want to throw up.

Before long, Alistair jogs up the steps with the chalice in hand. He breathlessly hands it to Duncan who thanks him and sets it on the pedestal.

Alistair breathlessly takes his place to the side and his gaze falls on the pale looking Ana nearby. Despite her rude comments toward him, he couldn't help but feel a flicker of sympathy.

"Ana." Duncan says. "It's time."

As she hears this, she feels the overwhelming urge to cry but manages to hold it in as she turns to face him. I'm not going to let this bastard see me cry. She Steps forward and reaches out toward the chalice. "Let's get this over with."

Duncan shakes his head. "You may be just one person but we still must speak first. It's tradition."

Ana rolls her eyes but motions dismissively for them to continue.

Just as he did with Roderick and Jory's Joining, Alistair steps forward and recites the prayer. Once he's finished, he nods to Duncan to continue.

Steeling himself, Duncan removes the chalice and stands before Ana. "Now, Ana," He begins. "As we have all done before you, you are called upon to submit yourself to the taint for the greater good."

Ana stares down into the dark liquid as the chalice is handed to her. She curses inwardly as her hands begin to shake as her heart pounds loudly in her chest. This is it. Swallowing, she looks up at Duncan.

"Please tell my brother I love him." She says. Duncan stiffly nods and he and Alistair wait as she slowly raises the chalice to her lips.

The smell of the blood is revolting and she pauses as a wave of nausea washes over her. She can hear Duncan urging her on but waits a moment for it to pass before taking a drink.

The taste is foul in her mouth as it snakes its way down her throat. She hands the chalice back and waits as she feels the taint spreading throughout her body. Then it happens.

The pain starts at the bottom of her stomach and radiates outwards. Her face contorts as she grips her stomach moments before a scream tears from her throat.

"Ana!"

Both Wardens turn and watch as Fergus Cousland sprints up the steps toward them. Alistair's eyes widen as his hand quickly goes to his sword, unsure of what the young Lord will do. Waving him off, Duncan quickly steps between Fergus and a writhing Ana as she sinks to her knees, her screams piercing the night.

"Ana!" Fergus calls again as Duncan, who is surprisingly strong for his age, holds him at bay despite his struggle. "Let me go! What are you doing to her?"

"Stop!" Duncan hisses. "This is what needs to be done. Joinings are closed to all except Wardens and their recruits."

Fergus's struggling begins to cease as he watches in horror, clinging to Duncan for fear of collapsing. T his is it. There's no way that she can survive such agonizing pain.

Ana's eyes are squeezed shut as she holds her head. The pain was so intense and seemed to be coming from all directions at once that all she could do was scream as flashes of dark and terrifying images filled her head. She could see them all. Legions upon legions of horrifying creatures with crude weapons and armor of all different shapes and sizes marching through what looked like a large hallway of sorts with dwarven markings. Their blank eyes and jagged teeth coupled with their mottled grey skin a terror to behold. A sharp pain lanced through Ana's head and images of a large, wicked looking spiked creature screeched into the vast cavern, calling its brethren to it. Ana could feel the pull of her own senses and she tried to resist.

As her vision clears of the terrifying images, blinding , agonizing pain rips through her abdomen. Curling up, she hugs her knees to herself as tears spill down her cheeks.

* * *

"What's happening?" Fergus asks, his eyes never leaving his sister's crumbled form. Alistair was the first to spot the blood. He shoots Duncan an anxious look. Fergus takes notice and his gaze flicks between them. "What?"

"Something's wrong." Duncan mutters darkly. Fergus struggles against him once more and Duncan motions for Alistair to check on Ana.

Both men watch as the younger Warden kneels beside her. He didn't dare touch her in case she decided to lash out. It was apparent that she had survived but, unlike the others, instead of passing out from the pain of the taint, she was wake, still in agonizing pain and bleeding through her trousers and tunic. The lad looks up at his mentor, shrugging helplessly.

Seeing no other option, Duncan releases Fergus and the two of them come to her side.

"Ana!" Fergus says, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Ana, it's me. It's Fergus."

Duncan and Alistair wait for her to respond only to be met with another pained cry. Her brother turns his hardened gaze on Duncan. "What did you do to my sister? What's happening? Is she dying?"

Duncan's mouth is set in a line as he shakes his head. "I have no idea. This has never happened before." He turns to Alistair. "Go fetch the Senior Enchanter. She should be tending to those in the infirmary."

Alistair nods and takes off down the stairs.

* * *

The sharp pain that lanced through Ana's abdomen woke Ana from her drugged sleep. Blinking away the blurriness, it was obvious that she was not in Duncan or Fergus's tents. Panic gripped at her. The canvas above her was backlit but did little to illuminate any defining features to help her determine where she was.

She attempts to sit up and lets out a pained cry before slumping back as the sharp pains attack her back and stomach. She whimpers.

She hears the flap open nearby and tries to look around her but her efforts are in vain. Within moments, a figure appears beside her and kneels to sit on the edge of her cot. She flinches as a warm hand touches her forehead while she blinks in an effort to clear her vision enough to make out who it is.

"Relax, dear." She hears a mature yet kind voice say. "Try not to stress yourself."

Blinking some more, her vision clears enough for her to make out fine lines of the woman's face. Her white hair is pulled back into a braided bun and she seems to be wearing enchanter robes. As her pale blue eyes meet her gaze, the woman smiles.

"Wha-" Ana begins, pausing as she gathers her rapidly depleting energy. "What happened?" She mutters. "Where am I?"

"Shhh." The woman says, gently tugging some strands of Ana's short hair behind her ear. "You're in the infirmary tent at Ostagar."

Ana's brows knit together. "Infirmary?"

The woman nods. Her smiles falls slightly. "What do you last remember?"

Ana's brain feels sluggish as she tries to recall her last memory. "I… I was going through the Joining for the Wardens…" She squeezes her eyes shut as though that'll help summon her memories. "I just remember…. Pain. Excruciating pain."

The woman nods and gently touches Ana's hand. "While I was able to stop the bleeding and help you, I regret to inform you that I was unable to save the baby."

Ana blinks up at her, uncomprehending. "Baby? What baby?"

The woman sits back slightly, bringing her hand to her lips. "Maker… You didn't know."

"Know what?" Ana exclaims.

"I see that I upset you. I apologize."

Ana shakes her head. "What are you talking about?"

The woman sighs. "You were pregnant; I'd say about three and a half to four months along."

"That can't be. I haven't-" She begins to say before the realization hits here like a sack of bricks. Her throat constricts and she suddenly can't breath.

She feels a hand on her arm as the woman instructs her to breathe but she barely hears her before her attention is diverted by the sound of the tent flap opening. The woman turns to look.

"How is she?" Fergus asks, his eyes flicking toward his bedridden sister. From where he stood, he couldn't see her face and assumed that she was still sleeping. Rising from her perch, the woman shoots Ana a sympathetic glance before striding over to Fergus. She lowers her voice.

"She's awake now but…" She pauses. "She may need a moment before seeing anybody. She needs time to process everything."

Shifting his gaze over her shoulder to Ana, Fergus frowns.

"I take it she knows?"

She nods. "Yes. Had I known she was unaware of her condition…" Her voice trails off.

"I should see her." He steps forward and the woman holds out an arm, shaking her head. "Perhaps later on tonight. For now, she needs to process everything." Placing a hand on the young Cousland lord's shoulder, she gives him a half smile. "Go eat and get some rest. I know you've been up worrying about her since you brought her here but she is in very capable hands."

Fergus once more looks at Ana's still form before sighing. He runs a hand over his hair with a reluctant nod.

"You're right. Thank you, Wynne. I appreciate all you've done."

She bows her head. "Of course. Now, go on. I'll keep an eye on her."


	45. This Was A Stupid Idea

Ana stared up at the canvas from her lumpy bedroll. It was strange to think that it had already been nearly a month since Roderick died. Everything about the incident seemed like a nightmare. A snore emits from her brother-warden near her and she glares at him.

Duncan came to visit her while she recovered. He spoke of what was to happen now that she was officially a Warden and left a pile of clothing for her. She abhorred the very look of the long blue and silver tobard that showed she was one of them. It was only hours after she was cleared to leave the infirmary when he showed up once more to escort her to her new tent. Her old clothes were burned along with evidence of what had transpired following the ritual. She knew that it was just to further make the point that her life and all that came before were gone. No longer was she the young noblewoman who fled her home in the middle of the night like a common criminal but just another one of the legion of soldiers who made the ultimate sacrifice.

The Warden dormitory tent was mostly quiet with the exception of the occasional mumble or snore from others. Yet that wasn't what kept her up. A tear slips down her cheek as she places a hand on her stomach. It had been a little over a week since her Joining and the pain haunted her still. Since that moment when she was told of the loss of the only thing she had left of Roderick, she found it impossible to not think of all the what-ifs. Every time she closed her eyes, she could see him. She felt her heart ache as he reached out for her. Even now in the darkness of the Warden tent, she could almost feel the warmth of his hand grazing her cheek or the heat of his breath as he trailed little kisses along her neck. She missed it all; His caresses, his kisses, the warmth that flooded through her as he spilled his seed deep inside her during his climax. She yearned to feel his touch and hear his voice once more. She needed to feel something again.

Casting another glance at Alistair who now had his face half buried by the sack of Maker knows what that served as his pillow. She scowls and quietly removes her blanket. As she stands, she looks lovingly down at Much who, splayed out on his back with his legs in the air, chases something in his dream. As much as she wants Much to come with her, flashes of the attack cross her mind and she frowns. "I can't do that to you again." She mutters softly to herself.

Silently, taking care not to wake anybody, she stalks out of the tent. Keeping an eye out, she steals away into the wash tent. Finding what she's looking for, she begins changing.

* * *

The fire situated on the far end of camp illuminated the trees nearby and cast shadows deep into the woods. Daniel glowers at the flickering flames. Roy emerges from the trees, adjusting his trousers.

"I fucking hate this place." He complains, flopping down on the ground. "I swear one of those darkspawn things were lurking somewhere. I heard a twig snap as I was taking a piss."

Daniel glances at him with a bored expression. "It was probably an animal, you fucking pansy. Everybody knows that darkspawn only exist in the Deep Roads." He motions around him. "Does this look like Dwarven tunnels to you? Last I checked, we were still above ground."

Roy sneers at him. "What's your problem? You'd think you'd be happy. After we attacked that Cousland bitch, you actually got something out of it. What do I get?"

At the mention of the dagger, Daniel pulls it out and tilts it, watching the reflection of the flames dance along the fine blade. He smirks. "After hearing that she had little experience in fighting, I never expected her to pull out a dagger." His eyes move over it. "It's a shame she didn't know how to use it. At least then she would have given me a little more of a fight." His gaze shifts to his companion. "Don't sulk." He chides, his lips curling up into a grin. "You'll get something out of it, just be patient. We have our orders. It's only a matter of time."

* * *

Ana stood before Hawke's tent, clutching the loosely tied robe shut. She chews on her lip. She was half tempted to run back and forget the whole thing but the ache in her body urged her on. Taking a breath, she glances around before gently pulling the flap open.

Her heart pounded loudly in her chest as she ducked inside. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust until she could make out Hawke's form huddled near one side of the tent. Kneeling beside him, she touched his arm. "Nate-"

She barely had time to react before he had her on her back with a dagger pressed to her throat.

Her eyes widen as a flame suddenly ignites in his hand and he snarls down at her. Seeing her frightened expression, his brows shoot up and he removes the dagger. "Ana." He breathes. The feeling of his body pressing hers down into the ground made every nerve ending in her body ignite. She could feel his heat through the opened slits before he pulls away. "I'm sorry about that, My lady." He frowns, sitting back on his heels. "Had I known it was you…" He trails off and runs a hand through his hair. "What are you doing here?" He whispers. "It's late."

As she sits up, his eyes slide down to where a strip of her fair skin peeked through. He forced his eyes up to meet hers.

"I…" Ana begins but feels at a loss of words. Everything about this seemed ridiculous yet she couldn't get her legs to cooperate so she could leave. She looks away for a moment. "I want to show you something."

Hawke's expression changes as he furrows his brows but nods. "Okay? What is it?"

Sitting up, she bites her lip as she moves closer to him, motioning for him to sit back on the bedroll. With increasing need, she crawls onto his lap, straddling his lap with a leg on either side. She notes the catch in his breath.

"Ana…" Hawke begins, his voice thick with desire.

"Do you find me attractive?" She suddenly asks.

"Of course." He whispers. "You are quite possibly one of the most beautiful-" He stops abruptly as his eyes slide down to where she pulls the strings holding her robe closed. Sweet Maker.

The robe falls open to expose Ana's bare breasts, each one firm and the size of Nate's hand. He feels a twitch of interest beneath his blanket.

"Ana, we…" He begins to protest when she presses a finger to his lips before hesitantly grazing his lips with hers before she leans forward. The kiss starts slow as Ana eases into it. Her lips work against Nate's as he struggles not to give in. Her fingers in his hair, she pulls away slightly. "Touch me, Nate." She mutters breathlessly before kissing his lips once more. "I need to feel something."

The sad desperation in her voice is enough for him to resist the tempting offer as he gently places his hands on her shoulders and pull away. He squeezes his eyes shut as if in pain from what he's about to say. "We can't do this, Ana." He mutters.

Her brows knit together. "What? Why?" She frowns. "I thought you were attracted to me?"

"I am. Maker… this is all so tempting and I can feel my resolve deteriorating." He sighs as she tries to self-consciously cover herself with her arms. "You've been through too much lately. You're vulnerable and it would be wrong for me to take advantage of that. I'm sorry. You're very, very tempting."

Her face flushes as she quickly scrambles off his lap and tries to retie the strings. "I'm sorry. I should leave."

"Wait." Hawke frowns. "Stand outside my tent while I dress. It's unsafe out here. I'll walk you back to your tent."

Clutching the robe around her, Ana slips out of the tent and shifts from one leg to the other. Embarrassment burns through her to the point that facing Hawke now would be mortifying.

Turning away, she quickly sprints away into the darkness, wanting nothing more than to redress and burrow under her blanket. Without proper lighting, she stumbles a couple times over broken pieces of pillars before approaching the the lanterns lit along the path leading out to the legion of tents covering the countryside. Stopping to catch her breath, she wipes away the tears that had begun to fall with the sleeve of her robe before returning to the wash tent. Once inside, she flops down on a bench. What am I doing? Taking some shaky breathes, she bends down to look for her discarded clothes she hid beneath the bench when she feels strong hands grab her from behind. She tries to scream but they press a hand over her mouth. Pulling her to her feet, she struggles against her captor and they quickly hit her square in the side. She doubles over slightly as she feels somebody's warm breath on her neck. "Out a little late, aren't you princess?"

Her heart pounds in her chest as fear takes over. The man behind her chuckles, making her skin crawl.

"Seems you have an admirer that wants to see you again. You're coming with us."

Before she can do anything, she's hit hard on the back of her head and everything goes black.


	46. A Close Call

***** TRIGGER WARNING *****

This chapter has a graphic scene that deals with attempted rape. If you find this triggering, I recommend not reading this chapter. Don't worry, you won't be missing much if you skip it.

* * *

A sudden loud snore from an elder warden wakes Much. He flips around and nudges the blanket before cocking his head. He whines.

Rising from his little makeshift bed, he pads over to Alistair and nudges him with his nose. Alistair half-heartedly waves him off. "Not now." He mutters. "It's sleepy time."

Again, Much lets out a small whine as he once more nudges the young Warden. Groaning, the lad turns over. "Ana." He mutters, reaching a hand out to nudge her shoulder. When his hand finds nothing but air and bedroll, his brows furrow as he opens his eyes. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust but he makes out the empty bedroll beside him. "Ana?" He sits up and glances around. Where is she?

Much whines and licks his hand. He looks down at the hound. "Where is she, boy?" He whispers. Regardless of how quiet they were being, a nearby warden grumbles for him to shut Much up.

Seeing he has the lad's attention, he trots down the middle of the rows of sleeping wardens and stops midway to look back at him. His ears perk up and he cocks his head. Seeing no other option, Alistair sighs. Flinging the blanket off, he grabs his cloak, wincing as he accidently hits the armor he stacked up nearby. It clatters and his eyes warily dart out among the others. A few moments pass before he quickly rises and puts on his cloak before following Much out of the tent.

* * *

Ana's awakened by somebody pouring ale on her. Coughing, she rolls over and wipes her face with her sleeve.

"Wake up, Princess." She hears a smooth, familiar voice say. Her heart begins to race and she feels fear freeze her in place. Wet strands of her hair plaster themselves against her face as her gaze slowly shifts upwards. Much as she feared, Daniel stood before her. He grins down at her. "Miss me?"

Her eyes dart around her to see the occasional lit brazier nearby, Where am I? She wonders. She hears something and squints slightly before her eyes widen. He's not alone. A handful of other men, some in the signature blue and silver tunics of the Wardens and a few in just their normal leathers, watching her.

She returns her gaze to Daniel, her eye catching the glint of her mother's dagger on his belt. Her blood boils at the sight but she says nothing about it. "What do you want from me?" She asks, her voice breaking. "What could I have possibly done to make you constantly stalk me?" She didn't like the way he looked at her.

He kneels before her. "Haven't you figured it out yet, Ana?" He reaches out and touches her cheek which she finches away from. "Perhaps third time's the charm? Sleep with me tonight and I will leave you be."

She clenches her jaw. "Why me? There's plenty of women in camp."

Once more he smiles. "They're not as interesting." He firmly grabs her chin and tilts it upwards. "They're not Teyrn Cousland's daughter."

The fear flashes across her face as she swallows. She never told him her name. The others ,with exception of Roy, whisper to each other.

"There's quite a few noblewomen in camp." She says. "Wives and daughters of noblemen. You don't need me."

Daniel shrugs. "They're only minor nobles. Your family is the second most powerful in Ferelden, outside the King and his family." His hand moves down from her chin to the loosely tied strings of the robe. "People like you stick their noses up at me." He pulls the first string and lets the top fall open, exposing her bare collarbone. "Let's just say, I want to touch and enjoy what only they can touch." His gaze meets hers. "What do you say?"

Ana leans forward slightly, her jaw clenched. "I say, go to hell."

As she says this, his face screws up with anger and he backhands her. She lets out a surprised yelp as the momentum of the slap forces her back toward the ground. Reaching up she touches her nose and mouth, pulling it away to find the darkened blood on her fingers.

When she fell back, part of the robe opened to show her leg up to just above her kneecap. He licks his lips.

"Daniel, we can't." One of the men in leathers hisses, his eyes wide as he steps forward. "She's the Teyrn's daughter! She's a noblewoman!"

Daniel glances down at her exposed leg once more before shrugging. "She doesn't look like a noblewoman now, does she?" He motions to the others. "Grab her."

The others exchange a glance before doing as they're told while the one who was against it watches in horror. "This is barbaric! I'm going."

As the man turns, Daniel motions for Roy to go after him. As his companion huts down the man, Ana struggles violently as the men grab her arms and legs while another covers her mouth to suppress her screams. Ana's tears stream down her cheeks as she bucks as she watches Daniel begin to undo his trousers.

"Hold her legs apart." Despite Ana's efforts to hold her legs closed, the men hold them open as Daniel slowly stalks toward her. "To think, I thought that you'd have actually learned some manners since our last encounter." He says with a feigned disappointment. "I even gave you the option to spend one night in my tent in exchange for me leaving you alone and yet… you rudely tell em to go to hell!" He shakes his head, tsking. "So unlady-like! It's a good thing that your parents are dead. I imagine they would be too happy with your attitude."

Ana struggles but the mens' grips are too strong. Daniel sighs and pulls out her mother's dagger, tilting it in the light. "This was your mother's, wasn't it?" He smirks. "It's a shame. It's a beautiful weapon. Too bad she never showed you how to use it."

Stepping forward, he uses the dagger to cut the next string, and then the next as Ana mumbles something as she cries. He stops and frowns. "You're right. This is much too slow."

He sheathes the dagger and with one swift movement, he tears the robe open and it falls open, exposing her full naked body. The men holding her mutter under under their breath while a few of the older ones reach out to fondle her breasts and mound. She tries to move away from their probing hands with little success.

"Now, now men!" Daniel chuckles. "Don't get too greedy. Remember, I have first dibs on this one." As he says this, he slowly moves his hands up her thighs, gently rubbing her cleft with his thumb.. "What do you know! She's even already wet for me."

Her eyes blur with tears as she tries to focus on anything but what's about to happen. She barely hears Daniel's lewd praises as he pulls his cock out and fondles himself for a moment.

"Don't worry, baby." He says as he idly rubs her cleft. "You'll enjoy this."

She clamps her eyes shut as she hears the men's' ragged breathing and the very tip of the bulb of Daniel's cock graze her opening.

"Hey! Leave her alone!"

Daniel, who is moments from pushing his way inside, stops and turns just as Alistair emerges from the shadows. A hound leaps up from nowhere and bites one of the men. He releases Ana with a scream as he tries to get the hound off. The other wardens freak out seeing their brother-warden and release Ana, letting her crumble to the ground before quickly bolting through the ruins. The other men in leathers release their hold and swivel as Alistair begins wailing on Daniel, raining blows on him before getting kicked back.

Alistair stumbles back and Daniel sneers at him as he tucks his cock back in his trouser and unsheathes his dagger.

"This doesn't concern you!" He hisses as he launches himself at the younger Warden. Alistair dodges the blade that flies down at him and he uses Daniel's lost momentum to his advantage and swings his leg behind the man's knees, knocking him over. The dagger flies from Daniel's hand as Alistair once more is on top of him, raining blows down on him which he's barely able to block.

His fist hits his jaw and blood spits out from Daniel's mouth moments before Alistair is picked up from behind. He turns to face a returning Roy, suspiciously covered in blood as Roy knocks his head against his. He stumbles back and falls over Daniel's legs. Once on the ground, both men begin beating on him.

The man who has Much latched on manages to shake free with the help of another man in leathers and the hound falls and rolls over. Once freed, they flee while the one remaining man besides Daniel and Roy quickly rolls Ana over. He glances around anxiously as he wrestles with the front of his trousers. Ana, weak and half out of it, tries to fight him off but he grabs her wrists and slams them hard into the ground, earning a yelp.

"Don't move, you dumb bitch." He hisses.

Before he can barely get his trousers unbuttoned, he's knocked sideways as a hard fist collides with his temple. He falls over and holds up a hand, pleading for the man to spare him.

"You better fucking leave or I swear to the fucking Maker, I will END you!" Hawke snarls. The man nods and scrambles to his feet, tripping a few times before turning and running. Anger builds up in Hawke's body and he quickly flings a large fireball at the fleeing man. The flames envelop him immediately and he goes down screaming as Hawke turns his attention to the two beating on a young man.

"You two!" He bellows. Striding over, he grabs Roy's arm as he winds up for another hit. The man's brows furrow as he looks back. His eyes widen moments before Hawke's fist collides with his face, a loud s nap echoing through the open space. Roy quickly falls away gripping his nose as blood leaks out like as if somebody opened a tap. Hawke pulls Daniel to his feet and the two exchange blows but Hawke gets the final hit on Daniel before the man staggers back.

"You better leave." Hawke says. "If I catch either of you near Ana again, I will burn your ass alive."

With a sneer, Daniel turns around and taps Roy on the shoulder before the two of them disappear in the shadows.

As the men disappear from sight and the man he lit on fire goes silent, Hawke glances between the two before quickly walking over to Alistair. The poor lad's face is a bloody mess but manages to groan. Hawke kneels beside him. "Hey. Are you alright?"

"Never better." Alistair croaks.

Hawke smiles slightly. "Can you walk?"

Alistair struggles to sit up so Hawke helps the lad to his feet, allowing him to hold his shoulder as he steadies himself. Through his half-swollen eye, Alistair notices the person on the ground. "Oh no… Ana."

Alistair releases him and he quickly walks over and kneels beside Ana. He gently moves her hair from her face. "Ana." He whispers. "Ana, can you hear me?"

Limping, Much walks over and licks her cheek which makes her stir. Her sight is blurry for a moment but as it clears, she see's Nate's face. "Nate?" She breathes.

He nods. "It's me." Seeing her torn robe, he frowns. "Come with me. Let's head to the wash tent. Alistair can clean himself up and you can get dressed."

She's hesitant to accept his hand, the memory of the other men invading her thoughts. Once back to her feet, she pulls her hand away and pulls her robe closed, the shame burning through her. Alistair slowly approaches her, his face barely recognizable due to the blood.

"Ana, are you alright?" He asks.

She lowers her head and says nothing. Hawke shoots him a rueful look before shrugging. "Come on. To the wash tent."


	47. On Good Conscience

Alistair and Ana waited quietly as Hawke entered the wash tent to make sure it was empty and light one of the lanterns. As the light within grows, he calls for them. Alistair is first and flops down onto one of the benches, flinching at his aching sides. He curses under his breath.

Ana, clutching her robe around her, perches herself on the far other side of the bench. Hawke instructs Alistair to clean his face before kneeling before Ana. She flinches away from his touch, her eyes widening with fear as he reaches up to tilt her face toward the light to better see the damage. Frowning, he retracts his hand and leans back on his heels. Ana's face burns as she looks away, tears threatening to fall once more. "I'm sorry." She mutters. "I'd rather not be touched right now."

"I understand." He nods. "I'm sorry. I should have asked first." He looks back to the curtained area that Alistair disappeared to before turning back to Ana. "Do you remember where you put your clothes?"

She hesitates a moment before nodding. "I stashed them in here…" She starts to bend over to reach beneath the bench but quickly jolts upright and glances around herself. Her heart races as she recalls the deep voice and the hand that clasped over her mouth.

"Ana, it's okay." Hawke says softly. "I'll grab it, okay?"

Ana hesitantly nods and moves over to allow Nate to reach under. He retrieves a bundle and hands it to her which she hugs to herself. He motions to another curtained area nearby.

"You can change in there. I'll stand guard. Once you're dressed, we'll see what we can do about yours and Alistair's injuries."

Ana quickly goes into the area and pulls the curtain closed. Once alone, her legs give out and she sinks to the ground, her body wracked by sobs. What could she possibly had done to deserve all this? Was the Maker punishing her?

"Ana, are you alright in there?" Nate calls from the other side of the curtain. Sniffing, Ana wipes her eyes and nose with her sleeve as she uses the tub to get up. "I'm fine." She calls, unconvincingly. Her hands shake as she slides the torn robe from her shoulders and lets it fall to the ground. Despite her being alone behind the curtain, she could feel the shame what happened and quickly tries to cover herself up with her arms. Everything ached and she could still feel where the men tightly gripped her arms and legs.

As she manage to finish dressing, Hawke calls to her once more. Alistair exits his own area, his face and it's damage finally visible with the absence of the him, Hawke frowns. "Well… they really did a number on you, didn't they?"

"You should see the other guy." Alistair quips, shooting Nate a crooked grin. "Thanks again for your assistance. Who knows what would have happened if you hadn't shown up."

"Don't mention it." Taking a step forward, Nate examines the young warden in the scant lighting. "Well, now that you've cleared up the blood, you don't look too bad."

"Thanks for the compliment. I'm flattered." Alistair mutters, earning a chuckle from Nate. Ana exits her area from behind him, hugging the balled up robe to her, her eyes cast downward. Both men turn to look. As Nate steps forward, he reaches out to touch her shoulder but she instantly shrinks away. Frowning, he retracts his hand.

Turning his gaze to Alistair, he motions for him to join him off to the side. He watches as the lad shoots a sympathetic glance toward his fellow Warden before stepping to the side. Hawke joins him and lowers his voice. "Speak to no one save your commander about what happened tonight." He says. "Ana has enough whispers about her as is with everything. It's best that not many people know of what happened this night."

Alistair nods in agreement. With a muttered goodbye, Alistair dismisses himself and leaves Ana and Hawke alone in the wash tent. For a long moment, neither of them say anything until Hawke motions toward her. "May I?" He asks. Ana hesitantly nods. Taking his time, Hawke steps forward. Ana avoids his gaze as gently reaches up to push her hair from her face, making sure not to touch her skin. His eyes move down to the dried blood around her nose and from her split lip from where she was struck. "I will only ask you this once, Ana." He says softly. His eyes shift up to look at her as she risks a glance at him. "Were the men successful?"

At the very mention of it, Ana's lower lip trembles and she feels tears prick her eyes. Everything was a blur. She could still feel where the men gripped her arms and legs. The memory of the men groping her body made her hug the torn robe closer as she was overtaken by a wave of nausea and shame. She shakes her head. "I…I don't think so." She mutters. "It all happened so fast…"

"It's alright." He says, retracting his hand. He watches her a long moment before sighing. "We need to speak with Duncan. Tonight." He shakes his head. "These attacks on your are personal and have happened too many times for Duncan to do nothing. If you're okay with it, I will go with you to speak with your commander. I'm sure Alistair will be happy to testify to what happened as well."

Averting her gaze, she nods. "Thank you, Nate."

Nate nods. "Of course. Now, let's go."

* * *

As Nate and Ana approach the Warden-commander's tent, Alistair jogs over toward them. Hawke raises a brow as Alistair glances between them before his gaze lands on Ana. In the light of the nearby torches, she sees the dried blood of the cuts that remained near his eye and on his lower lip.

"As I was heading back to the dormitory tent, I couldn't stop thinking about what those men did." He frowns. "On good conscience, I can't let these jerks get away with this. Duncan can't ignore this any longer."

Averting her own gaze, she feels shameful as she wishes she could melt away from his gaze. "Just go, Alistair." She mutters, her voice lacking its usual bite. "This has nothing to do with you."

He shakes his head. "No. I saw what happened and, despite that you don't like me, I won't allow them to hurt you anymore. Perhaps you can sleep with me tonight…"

Hawke's brows furrow as Ana shoots the young warden a disgusted look. Realizing his poor wording, Alistair blushes. "I didn't mean it like that! I mean we sleep together in a tent–"

Hawke winces. "Alistair, I don't think that's wise."

Alistair shakes his head with a groan. "I mean perhaps, until the men are dealt with, you can sleep in another tent and I'll stand guard to ensure nobody harms you." He frowns. "It's the least I can do for my sister-warden." He offers her a half-smile but she turns away from him.

"Just go to bed, Alistair."

As she starts toward the guards, Hawke shoots him an apologetic look with a shrug. "It's a kind offer, Alistair. However, I think the timing is a bit off." He claps Alistair on the shoulder. "Thank you for your help. Had you not gotten there when you did, who knows what would have happened. She may not appreciate your interference now but she'll come around."

Turning from the lad, Hawke follows Ana through the tent flap, leaving Alistair behind.


	48. A Painful Conversation

"Warden-Commander." Hawke says as soon as they enter. Duncan sighs and returns his quill to the ink pot.

"Just one moment." He mutters. As he turns to chide his visitor on the proper process to get an audience, his eyes fall on the disheveled and solemn looking Ana at the man's side. Jumping up from his seat, he strides over to the young woman and reaches out her to her. "Maker's breath, Ana!" He exclaims, his brows furrowing as Ana shies away from him. His gaze roams over her bruise and bloodied face and notices the beginning of bruising on her arms and legs. His eyes darken. "What has happened? Who has done this to you?" He demands. His eyes shift to Hawke.

Hawke folds his arms over his chest. "This is the work of some of your Wardens and a couple others." Hawke replies. "Same men who beat her previously."

Duncan's eyes flash at him but he doesn't flinch. "And you are?"

Hawke opens his mouth but Ana speaks first. "This is Nathan Hawke; He's my friend." All eyes shift to her and she feels shame burn through her. "He's the one who has been kind to me. He… he saved me."

Duncan's expression softens slightly. "Is this true?" He mutters.

Hawke nods. "It is. One of your younger wardens was there as well."

As though hearing his name, Alistair enters the tent from behind them. "Duncan."

The elder warden's brows furrow at the lad. "Alistair, what are you–" He begins, cutting off as he notices Alistair's beat up appearance as he steps further into the light. Duncan looks between the two young wardens. Before he can speak, Alistair raises his chin.

"This has gone far enough." He says, surprising both himself and his mentor with the authority in his voice. "Daniel and Roy have terrorized Ana enough."

"See?" Hawke says. "Not one but two of your wardens have been attacked. You can't just sit aside any longer."

Immediately the older Warden's steely gaze lands on Hawke but Nate doesn't move. Even when he was a young man who had just been made Warden-Commander, Duncan never liked his authority to be questioned; Not even by his friend and King, Maric. "I will look into it."

"That's what you said last time." Alistair frowns.

Duncan turns his gaze on the lad who, despite wanting to curl up into a ball with the look he was getting, stood his ground. "Alistair…" He warns.

"I'm sorry Duncan but it's true. With the war effort, recruiting and training, these jerks are free to terrorize and harm because they know that you are too busy to hunt them down and make sure that they're punished for their crimes."

"You said there were others?" Duncan asks, his question directed at Hawke.

Nate nods. "There were. I don't know if they were Wardens or not; Their armor was leather instead of your signature blue and silver."

Sighing, Duncan runs a hand over his hair. He turns to look at Ana, frowning. "While I am sorry to hear of you getting attacked once more, unfortunately I cannot punish them all. I only command those within the Warden ranks."

Ana says nothing but Duncan notices her hands clench at her sides. Maker, there's more to this .

Straightening once more, Duncan motions away toward the flap. "Leave us for a moment." He commends, never taking his eyes off Ana. "I wish to speak with Ana privately."

Alistair opens his mouth to object but seeing Duncan's expression, he obeys. Once both men step back outside, Duncan offers her a seat.

"I'm fine." She mutters.

"Very well." Pulling out a chair, he takes a seat himself. "What happened? Tell me everything."

Averting her gaze, Ana picks at her sleeves with shaking hands. She swallows. "I…" She began, trying hard to formulate an excuse for why she was out alone at night in just a robe but all she could see in her mind's eye was Daniel's lustful gaze as he ripped the fabric off her. She could still feel the mens' lecherous hands all over her body, making her skin crawl. "I was in the wash tent. I...I had just changed into a robe when somebody grabbed me from behind." Clamping her eyes shut to stop the tears, her lower lip quivers. "I blacked out and when I woke... I was…" She cuts off, pressing a hand to her mouth.

Duncan waits patiently until she begins to speak again.

"I was… on the ground, surrounded."

Duncan's brows draw together. "By whom?" He asks.

Swallowing, she shakes her head. "I...I don't know. I didn't recognize most of them. Just the ones who attacked me before."

"Ana…" Duncan feels a surge of affection for the poor girl and reaches out to touch her hand. Immediately, she recoils, his eyes wide.

"No!"

As Duncan slowly stands, Ana steps back and self-consciously looks down. "Sorry…"

"It's okay…" He says gently. "What did they do to you?"

Forcing herself to look at him, she feels the shame lance through her. "Daniel and Roy were mad that I denied their advances. They knew who I was… I denied them but Daniel ordered them to grab me then…." She looks away once more, her voice trailing off to illustrate what she couldn't say.

Duncan's hands ball at his side. "Ana, I will ask you only once, so we are clear about what happened tonight…" He says, keeping his voice low in case anybody was eavesdropping. "Were you raped?"

Shaking, Ana looks up at him with tears in her eyes before letting out a strangled sob. She drops to her knees and puts her face in her hands as she weeps. Duncan kneels beside her but refrain from touching her. "Ana, I know this is difficult for you but I want to be clear…"

"I...I don't know." She blubbers. "I..it all happened so fast."

Rising to his feet once more, Duncan purses his lips while Ana recounts parts of the fight that she seen. Taking a blanket from Ana's old cot, he places it around Ana's shaking form. She jumps with a surprised squeak only to be met by Duncan reassuring her that she's safe. He offers her a hand.

"I'll need to speak with Alistair and Hawke. Perhaps they can fill in what you don't remember and we can get to the bottom of this." He frowns. "I promise you that I will not rest until those men are found and punished."

Sniffling, she looks up at him with bloodshot eyes, rimmed with red. "Good."


	49. Protection

As Duncan spoke with Alistair about everything that happened, Ana and Hawke quietly sat across from each other in the small area of the Warden Commander's tent, adjacent to Duncan's living area. It had been at least an hour since they both spoke to him and were acted to wait; each internally blaming themselves for what had transpired. Finally, Nate clears his throat.

"I know you may not want to discuss it right now, which is fine…" He begins, glancing up at her as she hunches forward clutching the balled up robe on her lap. "But I just want to tell you how sorry I am."

Whether it was all the excitement or the need to drift away into slumber and forget about everything, Ana could feel the wariness setting in. She hugs the robe closer, without turning to face him.

"What do you mean?"

"This is all my fault. I shouldn't have let you leave my tent." He frowns. "I should have just let you stay while I slept in Carver's tent nearby. Had I not had you wait outside…."

Ana's head snaps in his direction. "Because I ran away?" Tears well up in her eyes. "Nate, that was not on you. I was the one who let my pride get the better of me."

"You were embarrassed because of how I reacted. Had I been more mindful…"

The nearby flap separating Duncan's living space and the little room opens and a solemn looking Alistair steps through. He awkwardly clears his throat before glancing at Ana. Immediately she turns away from him, clutching the robe closer to her chest as though it could shield her from her brother-warden's sympathetic gaze. "Ana, Duncan wishes to speak with you again."

Her brows furrow as she stares at the ground. "Why? I've already told him everything."

Alistair shrugs. "He didn't say."

Rising from her perch, Ana casts a glance at Nate before quickly walking around Alistair and ducking through the flap. Instantly she's met by not only a tired-looking Duncan but the same elderly mage that attended to her after losing her child during the Joining. Ana looks between them.

"What's going on?" She asks, her gaze shifting between the two people before her. "Alistair said you wished to speak with me again?"

Duncan nods. "I do." He motions off to the side. "I believe you've met Wynne."

Ana nods before turning her attention back to Duncan. "I've told you everything I remember."

Duncan's expression softens. "I know. I've called Wynne here to examine you for any other...injuries and so you can speak with somebody about what happened."

Looking back at Wynne, Ana's face burns. "I'm fine. I… I'm just a little banged up."

"Ana," Wynne steps forward, approaching the younger woman with caution as she senses her tense up. "You've been through a lot recently. It would do you well to speak with somebody."

As Duncan calls Hawke and Alistair back, Wynne leads Ana out of the tent and back toward the infirmary.

Both men return and Alistair glances around anxiously. "Where's Ana?" He asks.

Duncan waves away his question. "Don't worry about that right now. Our current objective is to find these men who attacked and ensure they are punished." He turns his attention to Nate, his gaze stern. "You may go back to bed. Alistair and I will deal with this from this moment on."

Duncan turns an strides back toward his bed. Alistair starts toward the entrance while Hawke stays put. "That's it?" He snips. "A woman within your ranks was sexually assaulted and you just dismiss us?"

Sighing, Duncan turns to glare at him. "As the leader of the Wardens here at Ostagar, I have made my my decision. You need not worry yourself any further." He waves them off once more. "Goodnight."

Before Hawke can argue further, two guards appear on either side of him. He huffs and swivels around, the guards in tow.

* * *

The torches nearby flicker with the early autumn breeze as the wardens, blurry-eyed and confused from being summoned from their sleep, assemble in the dark training field. Duncan's eyes narrow. "Do you recognize anyone from the assault, Alistair?" He asks. The younger warden's gaze moves across the ranks, attempting to fight past the massive headache that had settled in. In all honesty, the memory of what the men looked like was fuzzy given the adrenaline pumping through his veins during the action. His eyes moved in the direction of the main encampment, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Not yet." He sighs. His gaze flickers back toward his mentor. "Where's Ana? Shouldn't she also be here to help identify the men? She was the actual victim."

Duncan shakes his head. "She's been through enough without being retraumatized with the strain of seeing her attackers again. She needs to rest."

Alistair frowns at this but says nothing. Exhaling, he forces himself to focus. Trying his best to ignore the persistent pounding in his head, his gaze sweeps over the many faces, most which were turned away as they questioned the others as to the reason for the summons.

Stepping forward, Duncan calls his wardens to order. Immediately, everybody straightens and faces forward while their leader stares them down. "I imagine you are all wondering why I have summoned you here." He calls out, walking over to the last row. He glares at two men as they chat quietly between themselves before quickly averting their gaze and going quiet. Duncan waits a couple moments before continuing to walk around. "It has been brought to my attention that some of you have less than welcoming to some of our newest recruits, particularly a young woman who joined our ranks fairly recently." He pauses to look around at them. "On multiple occasions, a group of wardens have assaulted her and recently also attacked one of our own who tried to step in to help her. I will not stand for such behavior with our ranks." He balls his fists at his sides. "When I find out who was involved, I promise you that the darkspawn will be the least of your worries."

Alistair stands nearby watching his fellow wardens looking around uneasily at this.

Duncan sighs and runs a hand over his face and hair. "I know that many of you were recruited from less than respectable means but we are a brotherhood!" He says, his tone lighter. "As wardens, we make the ultimate sacrifice by taking part in the Joining in which we forge a bond and promise to fight and protect all those who are threatened by the darkspawn. The men and women you fight alongside are your family. Now is the time to step forward to bring those responsible to face justice."

Silence fills the space with the exception of the wind and sound of torches flickering. Duncan's face scrunches up into a sneer. "If need be, I will keep you here all night until I start getting names."

"Most of us were sleeping, Warden-Commander." One man says somewhere on the edge. "We're innocent in all this."

Circling the group, Duncan scans the row before finding the man who spoke. He strides up and stands toe to toe with the lad who visibly swallows as he averts his gaze. "I meant no offense."

"Do you think this is a joke, lad?" Duncan growls. Shifting, he points back at Alistair who's bruised face looks even more damaged in the light of the torches. "Does what happened to your fellow brother-warden look like a joke to you?"

The man ashens and mutters that it does not while Alistair feels the heat rise from having multiple people look at him. Duncan glares at the man before moving down the ranks once more "Then I suggest that people better start talking and soon."

* * *

Despite the tent being warm, Ana shivered on her cot while staring warily at the entrance.

"You can relax, child." Wynne softly says as she appears with steaming cup. She perches herself on the edge of the bed and hands it to the younger woman. "You're safe now. Nobody will harm you in here."

As she says this, Ana's eyes dart over to the templar standing in the corner. Wynne turns to look before sighing. "She will not hurt you. She is here as only a precaution since mages are to be watched at all times."

Ana stares after the templar curiously. While she knew that the templars accepted women into their ranks, it was rare to actually see one. Even so, Ana still worried that one of her attackers would actually be behind the full-faced templar helmet. She looks down at the amber colored liquid in the cup as she inhales a sweet yet unfamiliar scent. "What is this?"

"Tea. I put some poppy extract in it to help you sleep. I imagine with everything that's happened, you must be tired."

Ana stares at the glossy surface once more. "I'm afraid that I'll still see them." She mutters, just loud enough for Wynne to hear. "Even now I see them in my head. Their hands…" She cuts off as she feels shame once more overtake her. A tear slides down her cheek and she quickly wipes it away. Wynne reaches out to touch her leg.

"I know it'll be difficult, Ana. If it'll make you feel any better, I will stay right here at your side."

Admittedly, having somebody like Wynne watching over her did make her relax a little. With some urging from the older woman, Ana drank her tea and, within the hour, was fast asleep.


	50. A Helping Hand

It was hard to believe that it had already been a few months since Howe's betrayal and at least a couple weeks since the attack from the wardens. While she hadn't seen neither hide nor hair of her assailants since that night, she made sure to keep Much with her at all times, stay within the radius of guards and made sure to turn in early each night. Since nobody had divulged any new information, Duncan had suggested that she remain in near the infirmary tent which was heavily guarded with mages working to heal those wounded in the Wilds and their templar guards. Not that she minded given that she spent most of her time in the chantry, praying and finding comfort in the presence of the large Andraste statue.

She knelt before the statue, her hands clasped and her head bent forward as she whispered prayers under her breath. Mid-prayer, she sighs as Much whines from the corner. She shoots him an agitated glance. "What?"

He whines again, resting his head on his paws. Ana rolls her eyes. "You want to go for a walk, don't you?" She asks which is instantly met with another whine. She sighs once more, gathering the skirt of her crimson and orange novice robes as she rose.

In the days following the attack, Wynne suggested that she dress as a prospective lay sister of the chantry. While both Duncan and the Revered Mother were skeptical, it came as a pleasant surprise when the robes seemed to blend her into the background.

After putting on the robes, Ana had cautiously walked alongside Much or beside Alistair as they made their way toward the mess tent. Unlike the previous times they've made the walk, most barely looked up as they passed.

Ana brushed down the front of her robes before motioning for her hound to follow. Moving quickly past the servants and soldiers moving along to do their duties for the day, she had managed to slip away to a nearby clearing which still held remnants of what could have been a field before the blight had claimed it. Days ago, while out on her daily walk to get some much needed air from the stuffy chantry tent, she had seen Alistair swinging at one of the training dummies that had been erected shortly after the Wardens' arrival.

She strides up to it, examining its appearance. Parts of its stuffing was beginning to leak from the occasional slice in the burlap-covered body. Even the wooden sticks that protruded from the stand showed signs of abuse with the notches that covered the "arms" and "neck". Much circles it, sniffing curiously before giving it a decisive sniff.

Ana fingers the hilt of the thin yet sharpened sword that Hawke had made for her to defend herself. Now, staring down the practice dummy ahead of her, Ana's eyes narrowed. Flashes of faces - Howe, Daniel, and Roy - each one mocking and smug- flipped through her mind making her blood boil. Gripping the hilt tightly, she looks around for witnesses before unsheathing it.

The way the sun caught the metal was near blinding as she pathetically swings her sword, grimacing as she hears the loud metallic clang that sounds as she makes contact with the stake serving as the dummy's neck. Overcome with embarrassment from her child-like display, she swings again and again, each time the blade bouncing off with a mocking clang. Sticky with sweat from her exertions, she wipes the sweat that accumulated from her brow and glares at the training dummy, the emotionless burlap target on its face mocking her.

Grunting, she swings blindly at the dummy again and again to no avail.

Unbeknownst to her, the sound of her frustrated groans were overheard by Alistair who was walking nearby along the ruins. Thanks to Duncan's recent order for him to keep an eye on Ana, the senior wardens had taken to teasing the lad about his newest infatuation with his newest sister-warden. After managing to slip away, he had hoped to take out his frustrations from the constant teasing and had found it already in use.

Curious to see her skill in action before the upcoming battle, he had perched himself in the shade and watched as Much quickly ran over to join him. As amusing as her attempts to try, and fail, to harm the dummy was, he felt the worry beginning to seep into the back of his mind. Thinking back to what Duncan had said about the Couslands, he recalled that her mother was a famous war maiden. Surely she would have taught her daughter to fight? After all, being a noblewoman in one the most powerful families in Ferelden, she was always going to be in danger in one way or another. Obviously, when the group of wardens attacked her, she was unarmed and caught unawares. Yet, had she had her weapon and was able to face her enemy, would she have fought them off?

At one point, her blade bounces off the dummy and she almost trips on her own feet, making a laugh escape from Alistair. Immediately after it escaped, he purses his lips. Remembering the chilling laugh of the last man who snuck up on her, Ana immediately jumps, her sword falling out of her hand as she looks for the source. She shades her eyes and looks over before heat rises to her cheeks.

"Are you laughing at me?" She snaps.

Rising from his perch on the sidelines, he strides toward her with a smug grin. "Actually, I was laughing at the dummy. Seems to be having an off day."

Her eyes narrow. "Don't you have a chamber pot to go empty or something?"

He raises a brow. "I'm not a servant."

"No?" She asks, her voice laced with disdain as she eyes his rumpled and stained tunic. "Then what? Care for the mabaris?" She wrinkles her nose. "You certainly smell like you do."

"Actually, the joke's on you. I was raised by dogs. A whole pack of giant, slobbering ones from the Anderfels." He says, baring his teeth with a playful growl. "Better watch out if you have a leftover bone from supper tonight. I might steal it to gnaw on and bury later." His grin is met with a steely glare as her electric blue eyes narrow at him. "Are you quite finished? I'm a bit busy."

"Yeah, I can see that." He retorts, motioning to the virtually unharmed dummy. "Tobias really looks banged up."

"Tobias?" She sneers. "You named it?"

Striding over to the dummy, Alistair wraps an arm around it and shoots her a grin. "Of course. We practice together a lot." He turns and pats Tobias' chest padding. "Isn't that right, Toby?"

"You're pathetic." She scoffs, sheathing her sword. "I'm sure you two will make a lovely couple."

Alistair's smile falls as she rolls her eyes and turns to leave. "Ana, wait."

"That's Lady Ana to you." She sighs, glancing over her shoulder.

"Fine. Lady Ana, wait."

She raises an impatient brow. "What? Spit it out."

He looks down at his feet and pushes some grey-ish dirt with his boot as he hears her let out an annoyed sigh. His hazel eyes meet her pointed blue gaze as she crossed her arms over her chest and taps her foot. "You seem like you could use some help with sword fighting. I'm pretty skilled myself and could teach you a few things...if you'd like."

He stands there awkwardly as her eyes narrow and she bites her lower lip in thought. Finally, after a couple of awkwardly silent moments, she groans. "Fine."

Alistair eagerly runs over to his previous spot to retrieve his sword belt he casually sat beside him as Ana draws her sword. Tossing his scabbard to the side, he holds his sword off to the side. Ana notes how easily he handles it, as though it's part of his arm, and tries to imitate.

He offers her a smile. "First, I want to block my strikes. Can you do that?"

He notes her hesitation before she gives a brisk nod. "Of course I can." She mutters.

Alistair moves into a forward stance. "Ready?" He asks.

She nods and he swings his sword at her and she flinches away from it, putting her sword a few mere inches from her face for protection. Stopping his blade before it makes contact, he frowns and lowers his sword. "You're supposed to block."

"I am." She huffs, lowering her weapon with a scowl. "Maybe if you would have actually made contact with it…"

"If I had done that, you would no longer have a nose." He shoots back. "You were holding your sword too close to your face."

Her shoulders slump forward as her gaze bores through him. "Then what did you want me to do?"

"Hold your sword up to prepare for my strike."

She does as she's told but holds her sword out further away from her making a laugh escape from her companion. "What now?" She whines, lowering her sword once more. "Stop laughing at me!"

Bowing his head, he tries to compose himself before looking up at her accusatory glance. "You're right, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have laughed."

"No, you shouldn't have." Ana fumes. "You'd best learn not to mock your betters."

"If I had a sovereign…" He mutters with an exasperated sigh. "You don't have to hold your sword out as far as you had it. Watch me."

He turns slightly to get into a fighting stance and holds his hand at chest height and tilts his sword to the side. "See how far it is?" He asks, turning to show her. "About this distance is fine."

She mimics his actions and he nods. "Perfect." He smiles. "Try doing that a couple times to get use to the feel. After a while, it should be second nature."

As she repeats her stance over and over again, Alistair watches her as her face as her brows draw together and she presses her lips into a line as she concentrates. In his mind, he tried to envision what her mother must have looked like. He'd heard stories of her beauty and her skill on the battlefield many times from Teagan but had never seen an actual portrait of her. Perhaps her daughter is a spitting image of her when she was in her prime? He tilts his head in thought. "Your mother was a war maiden, wasn't she?"

Pausing for a moment, her gaze shifts. "Yes. Why?"

He shrugs. "I'm surprised she didn't teach you how to properly hold a sword. You are a Cousland after all."

Lowering her weapon, she glares at him. "Not that it's any concern of yours but my mother did have a tutor teach me how to use a sword." She turns away from him and raises her blade once more so Alistair could just barely make out what she mutters. "I just never paid much attention since I figured I never needed to know it."

He gapes at her. "Seriously? You're from one of the most powerful families in Ferelden and you didn't think you would need to know how to fight?" He shakes his head in disbelief. "What else did they teach you?"

Swiveling her lofty gaze, she sighs. "I was taught what all noble women are taught. Languages, history, how to run a household, literature…." She begins to list as Alistair scoffs. She throws her sword down onto the dusty earth and turns to face him, her hands balled at her sides and fury in her electric blue eyes. "What about you, huh? Have you ever read a book? Can you even read, stable boy?"

His brows draw together and she smirks, knowing she hit a nerve.

"That's right. I know about your lowborn status, Alistair. You might wear the armor of the renown Grey Wardens and fight like a great warrior on the battlefield, but in the end, you'll always be a dim-witted stable boy who needs to learn his place in the world."

Their gazes match one another for a moment before Alistair's expression softens. Stooping to grab her sword, he rises and holds it out to her. "Your sword, Lady Ana." He says, flatly.

Her brows draw together. "That's it? No witty remark?"

He shrugs. "I offered to help you learn how to properly wield a sword and I stand by that, no matter how you feel about me."

She hesitantly takes her sword, eyeing him with level suspicion as he motions with his chin. "Get ready."

Shifting into the stance he showed her only moments ago, she raises her sword. Without confirmation, he swings at her and she just barely manages to block it. He recoils.

"Well done." He nods. "Again."

He strikes at her again and this time she blocks it better than before. They strike and block for a few more times and Alistair offers her a half-smile. "Well done. You catch on quick."

"I know." She boasts, raising her chin. "I've always been a fast learner."

Alistair rolls his eyes. "All right… you saw how I was striking, correct?" She nods. "Good. This time, you strike at me and I'll block. Ready?"

With a deep breath, she nods and strikes a clumsy blow that almost clips his ear. "How was that?" She asks.

He shakes his head. "Your stance is all wrong." Sheathing his sword, he walks so he's standing behind her. "Here." He begins, putting his arms around her to adjust her before she flinches away from him.

"Don't touch me." She hisses, her heart pointing in her chest. "Just show me and I'll mimic you, as before."

"Sorry." He mutters, wincing before he moves beside her, drawing his sword and demonstrating the stance. He looks over at her as she mimics it perfectly and nods. "Good. Now, when you go to strike, step forward." He shows her as he demonstrates on Tobias before turning to her. He motions to Toby. "Try it on him."

Rolling her eyes, she does as she's told and strikes Toby on his neck. She turns eagerly to Alistair before quickly composing herself. Seeing her so excited about getting it, he smiles. Perhaps there's a decent human being in there somewhere?

After letting her take a few more practice swings at Toby, Alistair has her turn to him to try it on an actual person. "Alright," He begins, getting into a fighting stance. "Let's put them both together. If I start to strike, block. Once I step back again, strike. Understand?"

Her face set with determination, she nods. Together they go back and forth, striking and blocking. "You're doing great!" He grins. As he's about to swing at her, a clash comes from nearby in the direction of the camp and Ana jumps, her head snapping in the direction of the sound. Just as she lowers her sword, the tip of Alistair's blade grazes her cheek, leaving a shallow gash along the hollow of her cheek. Immediately, Alistair sheathes his blade, both their eyes wide in shock.

"Maker's breath…" Alistair mutters, stepping forward. "Ana, I'm so sorry…"

Reaching up her to touch her cheek, she pulls it away to see the streaks of red blood smeared across her fingertips. Instantly, she throws her sword onto the ground and shoves Alistair back so he falls against Toby. "You did that on purpose!" She fumes. "You stupid inbred! I'm going to report this to Duncan! Just you wait!" Pressing a hand to her cheek, a wide-eyed Alistair watches her as she stomps back to the camp with Much at her heels. His eyes fall on the sword, lying on the ground in the tainted dirt. "So much for trying to be a good brother-warden and being a helping hand." He mutters, straightening. Picking up Ana's discarded sword, he cleans it off with on his sleeve and heads back to camp to face the music.


	51. The King

Ana confidently blows through the flaps of Duncan's tent, ignoring his startled guards as they try to tell her that Duncan is in a meeting. Striding past the men, she gives them a dismissive wave and ducks inside.

"Duncan!" She calls out. She looks around her before seeing the silhouettes of the men gathered around the table in the adjacent room. With quick determined strides, she calls out for Duncan once more as she pulls the dividing flap aside. As she enters, all eyes turn toward her. For a brief moment, she falters before raising her chin. "I demand that Alistair be whipped."

The senior wardens turn toward their commander expectantly, awaiting his response. Despite the annoyance of once again being interrupted, Duncan turns to face her. His eyes flash but he keeps his expression neutral. His eyes move toward her cheek and he sees the long red gash. A look of concern crosses over his face before returning to neutral as he feels the expectant gazes on him. He motions toward the flap behind Ana with his chin. "Leave us. We will continue later." He says. A few of the wardens exchange amused glances before exiting the room. Some, Duncan notes, eye Ana on their way out. He waits a moment before finally turning his attention back to his recruit. He steps forward, his expression softening as he reaches up to touch her chin and sees her flinch. He inclines her head to look at her cheek. "Who did this?"

"That bumbling idiot, Alistair." She hisses. "He deliberately swung his sword at me and cut me. I want him whipped."

"Alistair did this?" Duncan asks, raising a brow. "What happened before he cut you? Perhaps it was an accident."

Ana recoils as though struck, her brows knitting together. "What does it matter? He cut me."

"What happened before?"

Ana lets out an impatient sigh. "After spying on and laughing at me on the training field, he offered to help me by teaching me how to use a sword." She looks away as she feels Duncan's watching her as he leans against the table behind him and crosses his arms.

"Go on."

"He was showing me how to block and strike. We were practicing blocking and striking together, there was a bang nearby and he swung at me. Luckily I turned otherwise I imagine he would have maimed me." Her intense blue eyes bore into Duncan's dark brown ones. "He made an attempt on my life."

"What you're saying sounds like he was trying to be a good brother-warden to you by teaching you how to defend yourself. You made the mistake of looking away at the wrong moment and he accidentally cut you." A slight smile forms. "Seems to me, Alistair taught you a valuable lesson; When in combat, you mustn't look away."

"After everything I have experienced since I've arrived, you laugh at me?" She hisses. In her rage, she knocks the pitcher of wine from a nearby table onto the ground. Duncan straightens, his muscles in his neck tensing as he stares intently at her. He opens his mouth to reprimand her but before he has a chance, Ana's willful expression falls and tears well up in her eyes. She mutters something under her breath before turning away. She calls to her hound from the next room as she rushes out.

"Ana!" Duncan calls after her but as he pulls aside the dividing wall, she's gone.

Tears blur her vision as she runs blindly through the encampment toward the chantry tent with Much at her heels. She hears somebody call out before slamming into somebody, or something. She bounces off them, stumbling back, tumbling over her hound at her heels. "Watch it, Sister." One of the men standing over her growls. She looks up at the heavily armored man and opens her mouth to speak when she hears the king's familiar voice. Cailan pushes his guards out of the way, his brows rising as he recognizes her.

"Lady Ana." He greets, motioning toward his guards. "Help the Lady to her feet." He orders before he smiles at her. The guards heave her back onto her feet and she looks away as heat rises to her cheeks. Dusting herself off, she dips into a low curtsy.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty." She mutters. He motions for her to rise.

"No need to apologize, my Dear." He smiles. His eyes scan her form. "Would you care to join me for some tea? Perhaps a bit of wine?"

Ana glances up to meet his gaze. "I'd be honored, Your Majesty."

Grabbing her hand, he places it on his arm and leads her back into his tent.

* * *

Muttering to himself what he's going to say to Duncan, Alistair turns the corner. Hearing a deep voice growl from nearby, his attention snaps to the present as he watches Cailan lead Ana into his tent. He frowns as a flicker of envy bites at him like a flame..

"So much for being different." He mutters. He forces the feeling down and continues onward.

Approaching the guards, he gives them his usual nod before heading through only to be stopped. His brows furrow.

"The Warden Commander isn't in right now." One of them says. "Come back later."

"Where did he go?"

They shrug. "We were just told to not allow anybody inside."

Alistair turns away, partially relieved. At least the lecture I will get will be delayed.

* * *

Ana's heart pounds in her chest as the tent flap falls behind them, leaving her alone with the king. While Cailan was kind, the thought of being alone with a man, especially somebody as powerful as the king, was still unnerving. She glances around in search of Much while the king crosses the large room to pour them both a glass of wine. Seeing her hound sniffing around curiously, she feels herself relax slightly.

Cailan returns with two elegant glasses and hands one to her. She takes it with a muttered thanks, looking down at the dark burgundy liquid.

"I hope you don't think me forward for inviting you in here, Lady Ana." He begins, offering her a charming smile. "I had hoped to speak with you since you arrived but, as I'm sure you're aware, many other pressing matters have come up." He motions toward one of the beautifully carved chairs around the polished table for her to take a seat. "General Loghain has it in mind that this is a real blight."

Ana turns to look at him. "You don't believe it is?"

"Not in the slightest." He smiles as he takes a seat across from her. "Between you and I, while the darkspawn might have summoned a fairly large horde and have been found raiding the surface, their numbers seem hardly like the numbers that have been fought in the past."

Ana nods. "What has Duncan said? As Warden Commander, I imagine he's one who could confirm your suspicions."

He waves her comment away dismissively before taking a long drink of his wine. Setting it down, he reclines in his chair. His eyes move over her form, taking in the ill-concealed curves of her body and moving to the small opening at the top of her robes before jumping back up to meet her eyes. "How do you find the wine, my Dear?" He smiles. "I imagine this is something new to you. What you're drinking is some of the finest wine from Orlais. It was a gift from Empress Celene as a promise of lasting peace between our countries."

Ana takes a small sip before setting it down on the table beside her. "It's very nice, Your Majesty. It's been quite a while since I've tasted something so fine."

"I can imagine." Uncorking the bottle of wine once more, Cailan pours himself some more and sets it aside. "I noticed you have a shallow cut on your cheek. I hope that was not from my guard. While he is good at his job, he tends to be a little overzealous at times."

Ana touches her cheek self consciously. "No ...Your Majesty. I received it before I ran into him."

Placing his drink aside, he scooches forward in his seat, motioning toward her. "May I?"

While the idea of being touched made her heart pound, she tensed but nodded.

Cailan's hand is warm as he touches her cheek. She flinches as his thumb grazes the small gash. He mutters an apology.

"Forgive me, Ana." He says, his voice just above a whisper. His eyes move down to her lips as his thumb traces her bottom lip. "If you don't mind me saying... you are quite beautiful."

Ana's cheek pinken as she looks down at her lap. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

"I'm serious, Ana." His eyes travel downward to the small opening of her robes once more. "Had I not promised myself to another…."He glances up at her once more. "If I'm not mistaken, you and I were betrothed at one point, were we not?"

Ana nods. "Yes, Your Majesty. It was only for a few years after I was born. Since my family was second in the kingdom and our fathers were friends, King Maric figured that we would be a good match."

"Ah, that's right." He smiles. "You may call me Cailan, by the way. It's just you and I here."

"Yes ...Cailan."

"I remember visiting Castle Cousland I was just a boy. We went to your nursery. You couldn't have been more than two years old when my father introduced you to me as my future bride." He chuckles. "At the time I wasn't very thrilled since you drooled and fussed whenever I was near. Then again, I just wanted the battles and glory and little else."

"Yet after King Maric disappeared, you became king and married Anora Mac Tir, daughter of your father's general."

Cailan looks away for a moment and for a split second. "Yes… it was an abrupt change. One that many of us, myself included, had not expected."

He rises from his seat, rounding the table with his back to her. Ana watches him as he pauses before a large tapestry depicting his parents' battle against Orlesian forces during the battle of West Hill. A long moment of silence passes between them before Cailan speaks once more.

"Lady Anora and I grew up together… did you know that?" He asks. He turns to look at her. "Our fathers were close, especially after my mother died. Loghain practically raised me." He turns back toward the tapestry without waiting for a response. "Anora and I often played together. She was always so…. bossy." He chuckles. "I guess after my father was presumed dead at sea, Loghain figured that having somebody who was known to the court and me were a better match."

"It seems to have worked out for you." Ana offers.

"I guess." Cailan mutters. "Yet... " He trails off, turning back to pour himself more wine. He motions her for a refill but she politely declines. He sets the bottle down and flops back in his seat. "Between you and I, my marriage is one of convenience, not love. There's no passion ..."

As he says this, Ana thinks of Ser Gilmore. Feeling the tears forming, she tries to hold them at bay.

Noticing, Cailan's eyes widen as he sets his glass aside and leans forward. "Are you alright, my dear?"

Forcing a smile, Ana nods. "Yes. I just was thinking of somebody."

Reaching forward, he grabs her hand. He ignores the small flinch she makes as he touches her and looks into her eyes. "Your family?"

She shakes her head. "No. It doesn't matter." She looks down at his hand as he moves his thumb in comforting circles on the back of her hand.

"Ana… you can tell me."

Her gaze meets his, the sorrow and grief showing in her bright blue eyes. What would be the harm? I'm already ruined.

"The man I loved… a man I also grew up with died recently. He loved me and… and…" she cuts off as sobs wrack her body. Tears fill her eyes as she covers her mouth and averts her gaze. Cailan pulls her into an embrace. She stiffens at the sudden touch yet slowly begins melts into his arms as she sobs. Cailan moves his arms down to her waist to hold her closer and she quickly pulls away, avoiding his gaze.

"I…I'm sorry, Your Majesty." She stammers as conflicting emotions battle for dominance in the forefront of her mind. She wipes her eyes with her sleeve. "You must excuse me—"

"No need to apologize…" He mutters, his eyes trained on her lips . "I can only imagine how difficult these past few weeks have been."

Ana's lower lip quivers as she nods. "It's been tough. To know that I will never hear his voice or feel his touch ever again…"

"It must be lonely." He nods. "For what it's worth, I'm here from you." He reaches out to and places a hand on her knee. She swallows.

Ana opens her mouth to thank the king for his offer and politely decline but Cailan cuts her off as he leans in, his breath warm as he presses his lips against hers. As his lips move against hers, his tongue slips in and she tastes the wine on his tongue. She feels his hand on her knee, slowly inching lower toward the bottom of her robes. The warmth from his hand as he finds bare skin makes her pull away. Her heart pounds so hard in her chest that it feels as though it'll break through at any moment. She rises so quickly that she almost knocks the chair over in her haste. "I…" She starts, creating distance between them as she tries to form a coherent thought as shame and embarrassment burn through her. "I should go… forgive me…" She curtly curtsies and starts toward the front flap as Cailan rises.

"Ana wait."

Before she can make it through, she stops as she comes face to face with the Warden Commander himself. She immediately backs up into the room, wrapping her arms around herself.

A puzzled looking Duncan enters, his gaze moving from Ana to the King.

"Ah, Duncan!" Cailan smiles. "What do I owe the honor?"

Duncan glances over at Ana. "Forgive me for intruding, Your Majesty. I was coming in hopes of finding my recruit. Now that I have found her…"

"Nonsense! Come have some wine with us!" Cailan offers, motioning for Ana to join them. He motions to Ana's old seat but Duncan declines.

"Perhaps another time." He strides over to Ana, keeping his voice low. "Are you alright?"

Still avoiding his gaze, she nods. He reaches out to touch her shoulder but stops as he sees her flinch. He motions toward the door. "Come along. We need to speak."

Swiveling, he looks around to find Much dozing in the far corner of the tent. He calls to him and beckons him over. Bidding the king goodbye, the three of them leave.


	52. Ana's Keeper

Ana and Duncan quickly make their way through the camp as Duncan leads his recruit back toward his tent. Once they reach it, he motions her inside. Hanging her head, she obediently ducks through the flap with Much at her heels while Duncan hangs back to speak with his guards.

"Send for Alistair." The elder Warden commands.

"He was already here, Ser." One guard says as Duncan turns to head inside. He stops, his eyes narrowing.

"Is he inside?"

The guard shakes his head and Duncan gives an exasperated sigh. "Then do as I say and fetch him. I want him here immediately. Understand?"

Receiving confirmation, Duncan slips inside to find Ana perched on his stool beside his desk with Much casually lying at her feet. Coming to stand before her, he crosses his arms. "This can't keep happening, Ana." He says, his tone surprisingly soft. "You can't just keep running off whenever you don't get your way. It's not safe for a woman like you to run about on your own. You were lucky it was only the king you ran into." He frowns. "While Cailan has his… proclivities, he's not exactly one to take things further than his partner is comfortable with." He pauses, frowning. "Then again, the power imbalance rules in his favor."

Ana nods but keeps her head down. Before long, the tent flap opens and Alistair walks in. His eyes instantly move toward Ana before flicking back to his mentor. "You wished to see me?" He asks.

Duncan nods and motions for him to take a seat. "I did. There's a matter that we need to settle."

Alistair carefully takes a seat near Ana, who inches away from him. Seeing this, Duncan sighs. He turns his attention to Alistair. "What happened between you two on the training field? I've heard your sister-warden's side. It's your turn."

Alistair glances at Ana who shoots him a glare. "I saw Lady Ana on the training by herself. Seeing as I've never seen her fight, I was curious. I noticed she was having some difficulty handling her sword so I offered to help her. For a little while, it was going well. I showed her how to block, parry and strike. We were practicing and a sound in the distance drew her attention." He pauses, a blush rising from his collar. "Unfortunately, she looked away at the moment I was swinging at her to give her a chance to parry. She lowered her sword and I accidentally cut her cheek. I felt terrible and tried to apologize but she got mad and stormed off."

"We all know you did it on purpose." Ana mutters. "When I looked away, you could have stopped."

The lad's brows furrow at her. "How was I supposed to know you'd lower your sword? It's not like I can read your mind."

"Enough!" Duncan growls, looking between the two of them. "This little feud between you two ends now. I'm done with the two of you constantly bickering like children. From this moment, things will be different. As the darkspawn grow their numbers-"

"The king says there's no real blight. Is this true?" Ana asks.

"The King…" Duncan begins, choosing his words carefully. He sighs. "Despite the warning from General Loghain and I, King Cailan believes that the random skirmishes we're encountered were not much of a threat. Your senses are not developed well enough just yet but as Wardens, we have the ability to sense darkspawn, even when gathered below the surface. I've sensed the darkspawn hordes gathering for some weeks now and it's far worse than Cailan can imagine." He turns to address them both. "Which is why I need you two to put aside your differences. The battle against the darkspawn is closing in and I need all of us to be on the same page. With that said… Alistair, I am putting you in charge of Ana."

"What?!" Both exclaim, their eyes widening. Duncan raises his hand to quiet them.

"You heard me. I can't have Ana running off without protection and having you with one another at all times will help you two bond."

"Are you serious?" Ana exclaims. "After everything that has happened, you're putting this… moron in charge of me? Have you lost your mind?!"

"Enough!" Duncan's eyes flash at her and she flinches. He doesn't back down. "You and Alistair may have had some bad encounters with one another but despite that, he deserves at least some respect and recognition. From my understanding, he stopped those who attacked you from going any further. If anything, you should be thanking him." Ana turns from him as angry tears threaten to fall. Duncan knew he hit home but stands his ground. "As I said, this feud you have is done."

"It wasn't just Alistair." Ana mutters.

Alistair, who had reddened as the argument had taken place before him, clears his throat, attracting Duncan's attention.

"Perhaps Nathan Hawke should be in charge of keeping her safe." He suggests. "They seem to hit it off and he was also one who showed up when even I was getting beat up."

At the mention of her friend, she perks up. Duncan shakes his head. "As grateful as we all are for Hawke, this is a Grey Warden matter. I want to keep this internally, at the very least until justice has been served."

Composing herself, Ana turns to address her commander once more, "I don't see how this will work. Since the attack, I reside within the chantry for my safety. Alistair sleeps in the Warden Dormitory tent."

"That is why, from this moment on, you will return to the dormitory tent with your fellow wardens. I expect you both to sleep beside each other, train and eat together." Duncan replies. "It is past time you've begun your life as a Warden."

"But—" Ana

* * *

Once dismissed, the two young wardens solemnly walk together toward the chantry tent to retrieve Ana's things. Unlike the pair, Much trots alongside his mistress happily.

Returning to the Warden's tent, Alistair leads her down the rows of pallets, cots and bedrolls to the far corner. He stops and motions to the pair of bedrolls. "Your humble abode, My Lady." He says in attempt to lighten the mood, only to receive a glare in return. He sighs. "I know you're not happy about this arrangement; I'm not either-"

"What could you have issue with?" Ana sneers. "You get to spend your days with a beautiful woman of noble birth."

"I see modesty wasn't taught in one of your many lessons."

Dropping her belongings on her bedroll, she turns on him. "You make it seem like I'm the most vile woman in all of Thedas."

Alistair shrugs. "I can't say that. I've never met all the women of Thedas." He shoots her a cocky grin which makes her roll her eyes.

Ana kneels to the ground, trying hard to keep the angry tears at bay as she smoothes the worn blanket with little improvement. She leans back on her heels. "I don't suppose I could possibly ask you for a new blanket, could I?" She motions toward it. "With nights growing colder, I doubt these would do much to combat the chill. The chantry tent at least was warm."

"Here." Alistair stoops down and grabs his blanket and holds it out to her. "It's not much but for now you can double up to stay warm." He motions for her to take it. "It's not ideal but this is our life now. I can't pretend to be your best friend but we can at least try and be kind to one another."

Hesitantly, she takes the blanket from him. "Thank you… I guess."

Alistair smiles. "See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"

She rolls her eyes. "Don't push your luck."


	53. Some Like It Hot

**Trigger warning:** Suicide

At the beginning of this chapter, we take a look at a character attempting suicide. This is not to glorify suicide but to start a conversation about mental health. Suicide is a very serious issue and should not be taken lightly. If you or anybody in your life is suicidal and contemplating hurting themselves, please seek help. As somebody who deals with chronic depression, I know that taking the first step toward getting help is definitely the hardest but trust me, it's one of the best things you'll ever do. Even just talking to somebody and venting how you're feeling to a sympathetic friend or family member. If you have nobody to talk to (I've been there) feel free to take advantage of the following resources (remove the spaces):  
ibpf resource /list-international-suicide-hotlines - List of Suicide Hotlines for various countries  
www. 7cups

Stay safe and take care of yourselves. :) I promise you that there are people who care about you even if your mind tells you otherwise.

Now... on with the story! Enjoy y'all! :)

* * *

 _Just do it._  
A hot tear slid down down Ana's cheek as she struggled to find the courage. The chilling early autumn wind made her shiver, seeping through the fabric of her tunic and worn trousers. Her fingers felt numb as she held the pillar behind her. Everything she had been through, the shame and the loss, it ate at her. She thought she could do it; She thought she could rise above it all and heal her soul through prayer but seeing Rory again, even if only in a dream, broke her.  
She opens her eyes, the threat of another round of tears stinging her eyes. She glances down, ignoring the rogue strands of hair floating across her face as another gust of wind blows past. The light had begun to rise, painting the sky a combination of light blue,purple and pink with a little bit of yellow. She chokes back a sob as she looks at the horizon, both marveling at the beauty of it before regret and doubt begins to tug at the back of her mind. Flashes of her final morning with Roderick play in her mind and she flinches. It was too much. Even now, she could still feel the warm of his body pressed against her, the taste of his lips as he kissed her.  
She looks away. What she wouldn't give to live that moment over and over. She chokes back a sob.  
With the brightening of the sky, a bird chirps and her eyes fall to the valley below her. _Just a few steps._ She says to herself. _A few steps and it's over._  
"Ana!"  
She flinches as her head snaps in the direction of the voice. Her fingers dig into the pillar. "Stay back, Nate!" She calls, shaking. "This doesn't concern you."  
Hawke holds his hand out as though she's a feral animal. He takes a step forward. "Ana, don't do it." He frowns. The breeze makes his hair fall over part of his face but he doesn't budge. "Please."  
The tears she had been holding back break free and blur her vision as they stream down her cheeks. She shakes her head. "I have to."  
"No, you don't." He says gently. He takes another tentative step forward. "Come with me. We can talk about this."  
She shakes her head once more. "No we can't." She sniffs. "I'm sorry, Nate."  
Hawke's eyes widen as she pushes away from the pillar. The moment her feet leave the cliff, Nate starts booking it toward her. "Ana!" Energy springs from his hand and he dives toward the edge of the ruins precariously hanging off the cliff. His hand outstretched, he lets out a sigh of relief as Ana lies back on an almost invisible net of energy, almost paralyzed with fear. Looking over the edge at her he frowns as he stretches out his other hand toward her. "I think we need to talk."

* * *

Ana silently follows Nate back to his camp on the outskirts of the royal encampment. She pauses near their fire pit and looks warily at the tent adjacent to Nate's.  
"Don't worry." Nate says, motioning for her to sit on one of the logs around the pit. "It's just us. Carver volunteered to help the soldiers with morning patrols. He won't be back for a couple hours."  
As Ana takes a seat, she watches as he walks over to a small pile of wood stacked up between the two tents. As he turns, he sets the wood aside and kneels before the pit. The gentle but chilling breeze blows through and Ana shivers, hugging herself in attempt to - unsuccessfully- shield herself from the cold.  
Once a small fire is crackling away, Nate rises. He walks over toward his tent and lifting up one of the flaps before glancing back at her. "Give me a moment to grab something. Stay here."  
Ana's cheeks burn with her previous memory as she nods. He disappears into his tent and returns moments later with a worn woolen cloak slung over his arm. He holds it out to her.  
She shakes her head. "I'm fine."  
"Put it on. I can see you shivering."  
She sighs and takes it from him with a muttered thanks. Wrapping it around herself, she feels another well of tears threaten to fall as she's unable to meet his gaze. He sits nearby, his gaze trained on her but says nothing for a long time. When she makes no effort to speak, he clears his throat. "Ana, I know you're in pain…"  
She shakes her head. "You don't understand. Nobody does." She whispers with a sniff.  
He frowns. "Ana…." He stops, exhaling as he tries to think of how to word what he wants to say. "I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry."  
Her brows furrow as she risks a glance at him. "What?" Her eyes search his. "What are you talking about?"  
"Ever since that night when those men attacked, I have regretted leaving you alone."  
She looks away, the memory painful. She can almost feel the men probing and groping her still. Even now, their touch burned her skin like a brand. "I told you before…. That wasn't your fault."  
Nate shakes his head. "No. It is." He frowns. "I never should have had you leave my tent that night."  
She glances up at him, her eyes widening."What?"  
"I mean, I should have just allowed you to sleep in my tent. While misdirected, it was obvious that you just didn't want to be alone. You came to me while vulnerable because you trusted me and I betrayed that trust. I thought I was being honorable…"  
"Stop." She frowns. "Nate, it was never your fault. Nothing bad that has happened to me has been your fault. You've been one of the single things to happen to me that has made everything I've been through a little bit more tolerable." As she says this, her face reddens.  
"Ana…" He reaches out to touch her hand between them and she shies away.  
"Sorry. It's still difficult." She mutters.  
He shakes his head. "No need to apologize." He watches her for a long moment as the one question he had burned at the forefront of his mind. He clears his throat and immediately regrets it as she flinches.  
"I should get back…" She mutters, rising from her seat. She turns from him and before he can catch himself, he blurts it out.  
"Why did you jump?"  
She stops in her tracks. As tears begin to form, she closes her eyes, thankful that she's not facing him. A long silence passes between them. Nate lets out a sigh as he rubs his neck subconsciously.  
"Ana, I'm sorry. If you don't feel comfortable-"  
"It's too much." She mutters, choking back a sob. "The pain, the loneliness, the what-ifs… it hurts to be alive; To go on without everyone I loved and cared for. I-"  
She breaks into a sob as her knees give way. In two steps, Nate catches her and sinks to the ground beside the fire. She turns, flinging her arms around him, clinging to him tightly as though she were drowning and he was the only thing keeping her afloat. She buries her face in his chest as sobs wrack her body. Nate rests his head in her own, remaining motionless for fear of giving her a reason to pull away.  
He holds her for a quite a while until her breathing begins to slow and her sobs become less frequent. With a shuddered breath, she pulls away from him, her cheeks burning as she uses her sleeve to wipe her eyes. "I'm sorry," She mutters.  
Nate's gaze stays trained on her. "It's alright. I know things have been difficult lately. Losing people you love is something that takes time to heal from."  
He watches as she nods and looks down at her hands. With a small sigh, she wipes her eyes. "Can I tell you something?" She sniffs.  
"Of course."  
"Do you remember after Ser Gilmore's died…you came to see me and I was hardly able to keep anything down?"  
Hawke nods, despite Ana not seeing it. "Yeah. You were grieving and I had given you potions to help ease your stomach. I'm glad to see you recover." He sees her lower lip tremble slightly. "Why?"  
She turns, the tears making her bloodshot eyes glow more than usual in the early morning light. "I thought I was just ill but I was actually with child...Rory's child." As she says this, her eyes brim with tears. "During my Joining I...I lost my child. I lost the very last piece of Rory I had left."  
Hawke's eyes widen. "Maker's breath." He breathes. "Ana, I'm so sorry."  
She places a hand over her mouth as tears break free and slide down her cheeks. It takes her a moment before she speaks once more. "Ever since I found out, I've been plagued by what-ifs. If Rory had lived, would we have left Ostagar? Would our child have had his red hair or his pale green eyes? Would they be a blend of us both?"  
She leans into his embrace once more, her hand gripping the fabric of his shirt. His arms reluctantly encircle her as he gently strokes the back of her hair.  
Once Ana pulls away, drained, she wipes her eyes once more as a dull ache begins to form at her temples. She sniffs and exhales.  
"I should probably get you back to your tent." Nate says after a while. "I imagine Duncan wouldn't be thrilled if he found out that you were out alone."  
Sniffing, Ana shrugs as Hawke rises and offers his hand. She hesitantly takes it and dusts herself off. "No he wouldn't. It's bad enough that he's forcing Alistair and I to spend time together."  
"Oh?" Nate smirks. "That can't be too bad. He seems like a good enough lad."  
She shoots him a look but says nothing further about it as they begin walking back to the main encampment.  
As they approached the Warden dormitory tent, Ana slows. She bites her lip as a sleepy Warden exits the tent, oblivious to the presence of the younger Warden and her companion. They yawn, stretching and rolling their shoulders before setting off to begin the day. Once gone, Nate turns to face Ana, his expression tinged with a rueful smile. "Here we are." He sighs, motioning toward the flap that was still moving from the recent disturbance. "Perhaps you can get a little bit of sleep before your Warden duties begin for the day."  
Ana nods and begins toward the flap and stops. She turns to him. "Thank you again for all your help." She says, feeling the heat begin to rise to her cheeks as she keeps her eyes down. "Also, I would appreciate if we could keep what happened between the two of us." She frowns. "If word got out to Fergus… I don't think I could live with myself." She risks raising her eyes to meet his. "He's also lost a lot recently."  
"Your secret is safe with me, My Lady." He smiles. Ana turns from him. "Ana."  
She turns and raises a brow.  
"Before you go, I need you to do something for me."  
Her brows furrow. "Okay?"  
"While I know things are difficult right now, I want you to promise me that you won't do that ever again." He frowns. "I also want you to promise to come to me when things get tough so I can try to help you. Can you do that for me?"  
Tucking some hair behind her ear, Ana nods. "I promise."  
As Hawke leaves her, Ana returns to her bedroll beside Alistair. She hugs her knees to her chest as she looks out at the other sleeping bodies strewn about the tent. She bites her lip as Alistair, whose head is buried beneath his blanket,emits a soft snore beside her. Pulling Hawke's cloak around her, she touches the ring on her finger and thinks about her lost love.

* * *

"Ana."  
Ana blinks awake, her brows furrowing as Alistair's face comes into focus as he leans over her. She springs up, looking around them to find the tent devoid of the other wardens. She frowns, unable to recall when she had fallen asleep. Alistair clears his throat which gets her attention.  
"Sorry. I would have touched your shoulder or something but…" He trails off with a shrug. "Are you hungry?"  
Ana looks down at the worn blanket across her lap. The fatigue of the early morning events setting in. "Not really." She lies, despite her hunger twisting her stomach.  
"Well, I'm heading to the mess tent. Perhaps you'll change your mind."  
She glares at him. "I'm not hungry."  
He rolls his eyes with a sigh. "Well, I am and Duncan says that we have to stick together."  
Ana purses her lips. "I doubt it'd kill you to skip one meal."  
"No, but it'd apparently kill you to cooperate and be nice for once." He shoots back. "Come on. You don't have to eat if you don't want to but I would still like to get something to eat before I start my day."  
Ana rolls her eyes but stands up, fixing her long shirt and pulling Hawke's cloak close around her before following her brother-warden. They crossed the courtyard in silence until Alistair clears his throat. "I didn't want to mention it but I'm surprised that your mabari isn't with you. Is he all right?" He asks, his gaze shifting to look at her. He frowns as he watches her; she keeps her eyes trained on the ground with her arms wrapped around her. Are you cold?"  
"I'm fine." She mutters. "After our last encounter, Much was injured. Thanks to Hawke, he's being treated by the hound master."  
"I'm sorry to hear that." The lad says. "I hope he makes a swift recovery."  
A familiar voice sounds from nearby and Ana freezes in place, glancing about frantically for the source. It takes a moment for Alistair, who had continued walking, to take notice and slow to a stop. "What?" He asks, looking around. "What's wro- oh no."  
His eyes fall on the subject of Ana's stare.  
"It's him. One of the men who…" she whispers, her eyes never leaving the man locked inside a big metal cage.  
Alistair gaze swings back to Ana, his lips turned downward into a frown. "I know. I recognize him from that night. We'll just need to tell Duncan - Ana, where are you going?!"  
He tries to reach out for her but she walks with a determined strides toward man with Alistair quick on her heels. She stops a few feet away as Roy is mid-shout about the guard's lack of care.  
"Ana, this isn't a good idea…" Alistair hisses, his eyes moving to Roy as though he were a feral animal in the wild..  
Ana ignores him, her jaw clenched as she stares down one of her assailants. Roy notices her and smirks as she involuntarily flinches when he leans forward. "Come back for seconds then?" He sneers. Ana feels tears prick the back of her eyes but holds them at bay. This bastard doesn't deserve the satisfaction of seeing her pain that she still endures.  
"I remember you." She says.  
"Good." He smirks. "I make no apologies. In fact,it's a shame you never got to try out my cock. I'm sure you would have loved it, Princess. Unfortunately, Daniel can be a bit greedy."  
"You bastard!" Alistair growls, stepping forward but Ana puts her arm out to stop him. Roy turns his attention to the other Warden.  
"How are you feeling after your last beating, Alistair? You'd think that that pathetic attempt you made would be a good enough reason to avoid trying to play the hero."  
The guard, fed up with his charge's mouth hits the side of the cage with his gauntleted hand. "That's enough." He says, directing it at both parties. He looks at Ana. "Run along, lass. It's best not to feed into him."  
"Yeah, I prefer watching her struggle. It was far more fun."  
Fear gripped at her as flashes of that night flashed through her mind. Her lip trembles.  
"You know who I am." She says, her voice surprisingly steady. "How? Why are you targeting me?"  
"Lass…" The guard warns as Roy lets out a cruel laugh that makes her flinch.  
"You mean, after all this time, you still haven't figured it out?" He sneers. "My, you really are a beautiful little idiot, aren't you?"  
In her anger, she grabs the cup from the guard's nearby breakfast and flings it at Roy. The cup hits the side of the cage with a clang before falling into the pile of dried grass, leaves and sticks that had accumulated beneath the row of cages. The contents of the cup hits Roy in the face and wets his simple shirt and trousers making him give a shout of annoyance. Grabbing the bars in front of him, he bares his teeth as he leans forward.  
"You little cunt!" He roars. "I really wish Daniel would have succeeded so I could have had a chance to destroy that little uptight cunt of yours as I fucked you bloody!"  
Ana began to shake. With an anguished shout, she pushes over the nearby brazier, spilling the contents to the ground. The guard emits a surprised shout of his own as he pushes her away. She stumbles back, watching as he tries to put out the fire that lit the pile of dried grass, twigs and leaves gathered under Roy's cage. The early morning breeze egged it on, allowing it to burn and catch the vines that had begun to climb up to the cage itself. Ana watches as Roy's angry shouts quickly turns to panic as the contents spilled on his clothes catch fire, setting him ablaze. The guard frantically tries to find the key to the cage, his hands fumbling so much that he drops them twice with a flustered curse.  
By the time the guard finally gets the keys out, others who heard Roy's screams rushed over to help douse the flames and Roy's screams came to a sudden halt. The sickening sweet smell of burned flesh filled the area making Ana's stomach churn. Alistair offers to help her up but she ignores him and stands in place, staring stone-faced at the now half-charred corpse of her tormentor.  
Ignoring the suspicious stares and whispers following them, Alistair leads Ana away, continuing toward the mess tent.  
"That bastard!" Alistair fumes once they're far enough out of earshot of the crowd of onlookers. He stops and swivels around to face a solemn looking Ana, his expression softening. "Are you all right?"  
She shrugs. "I'm fine." She says.  
He looks at her as though she's lost it. "Fine? You just killed a man!" He hisses. He notices a few curious glances from a soldiers nearby waiting for food. He lowers his voice. "The man was a terrible person but a man nonetheless."  
She shrugs once more. Fine might not have been accurate but she wasn't entirely sure how she felt. She felt numb- no joy, no relief, no guilt; Nothing. Nothing was changed.

* * *

Shortly after the incident, Duncan's guard arrives in his tent. Looking up from his reports, he raises a brow.  
The guard bows. "Forgive the interruption, Warden-Commander. There's a soldier here who wishes to report a crime that has been committed recently."  
Duncan sighs. "Very well. Send him in."  
Within moments, the man enters carrying his helmet in under his arm. His face is drained of color and looks as though he's about to pass out. Duncan rises from his seat and offers the lad one of the nearby benches which is quickly accepts. "What is this crime you wish to report?" Duncan asks as he casually pours himself and the lad a cup of wine. He hands it over which the man takes eagerly. Duncan watches him as he practically drains his glass in one go before setting it down. He takes a breath before meeting Duncan's gaze.  
"One of your Wardens burned one of your other men alive while he was locked in a cage."  
"What do you mean?" Duncan's brows knit together. "I issued no such punishment for one of my Wardens recently." Duncan replies. "What was this man's crime? Who sentenced him to sit in the cage?"  
The lad's face reddens. "General Loghain Mac Tir, Sir. The man had assaulted a soldier of the royal army and had been awaiting his punishment."  
"I see." He nods. Watching the lad, he runs a hand over his short, dark hair with a sigh. "Did you get a good look at the person who killed this man?"  
The guard nods. "Aye. It was a younger woman with short, dark hair and bright blue eyes."  
At this description, Duncan freezes. "This woman… was there a young man with dirty blond hair with her? Possibly a light brown mabari hound?"  
The guard thinks for a moment. "Aye. There was a man but no hound."  
Duncan curses under his breath. His eyes bore into the man's as he leans toward him across the table. "I'm going to need you to tell me everything you know leading up to the incident."


	54. A Debt Paid

Duncan stands stoically across from Loghain, watch with fleeting interest as he sighs. Since hearing about the incident, Duncan called for a meeting to decide what was to be done with Ana. If anything, Duncan was more impressed than angered when the guard described the incident in detail. What could have possibly set her off? Sure, she was impulsive and had a tendency to be reckless but to burn a man alive?  
The general sighs once more. "Are you sure you dispatched somebody to summon the king?" He asks. Duncan resists the urge to roll his eyes.  
"I believe Cailan's absence speaks more of you than me, Loghain." Duncan replies coolly. "As his father-in-law, I believe you're more of his keeper than I. As you more than well know, I have my own soldiers to deal with."  
Loghain gives a derisive snort. "Soldiers? Is that what you're calling your ragtag group of murders and thieves?"  
Duncan ignores his comment only to follow up with his own quip. "I imagine our young king is just running a little late. Perhaps he's finishing his kingly duties with that young brunette I seen in his tent earlier." He smirks slightly, knowing his barb made purchase as the old general grimaces. Before Loghain can respond, the tent flap opens and Cailan enters the infirmary tent with his entourage in tow.  
"Forgive me, gentlemen." Cailan says, surprisingly upbeat. "I was in the middle of something when I received your summons."  
"Or someone." Loghain mutters. Cailan either doesn't hear him or ignores him as he smiles at Duncan.  
"Your message mentioned a sensitive issue?"  
"Yes, Your Majesty." He says, his eyes moving toward the men with Cailan. "I was hoping we could keep the situation between the three of us."  
"Ah, of course!" Cailan says with a dismissive wave. He waits until his guards are out of sight before turning his attention to Duncan once more. "Proceed." Duncan nods.  
"There's been an incident."  
"It involves the Wardens you like so much." Loghain adds. Duncan shoots him a glare.  
"Yes. I was getting to that." He turns his head. "My newest recruit killed a man that was in a cage, awaiting punishment for assaulting one of your guards." Cailan's brows shoot up as he looks between them.  
"The Cousland girl?" Duncan nods and leans back slightly in disbelief. "My, how… unexpected."  
"I think it'd be wise to point out that the man who was killed was also a Warden." Loghain smirks. Cailan's brows furrow.  
"If they were both wardens, I don't see why Loghain and I are here. As Warden-Commander, you have full jurisdiction to deal with the matter internally."  
"That's the thing, Your Majesty. The man wasn't a Warden."  
"What?" Both men exclaim.  
"After examining the corpse, I've determined that I don't recognize the man. He's not a Grey Warden but an imposter." He glances at Loghain. "I believe that this would make this man your responsibility, Loghain."  
He receives a glare from the Teyrn. "I hope you're not implying that you remember every single person that becomes a Warden." Loghain scoffs. "Then again, I wouldn't be surprised if people were able to infiltrate your ranks. I've seen how lax your management has been over the years."  
"Now, now gentlemen." Cailan chides. "It is vital that we keep a cool head in all this." He turns and takes a seat in a nearby seat before patting the benches near him. "Come, let's discuss this."

* * *

Ana and Alistair sit in the pews adjacent to the guard in the chantry tent. From here, she could just barely make out which voice belonged to whom. Her mind felt muddled and she felt like she was going to throw up. If suggested, would Duncan allow for her to be whipped or killed?  
"There's no way you'd be sentenced to hang." Alistair thinks aloud as the guard is summoned to speak with the group of leaders. "As a Warden during a Blight, you're needed. Also-"  
"Please shut up." She mutters, close to tears. "You're not helping."  
He turns to her. "I'm serious. Given everything you've been through, I'm sure Duncan will see that it was basically self defense." His demeanor changes as he thinks about Roy's words. "I still can't believe he said that to you. That-" He starts to fume but stops as Ana rises abruptly from her seat. She starts to walk toward the aisle and he rises. "Ana, wait! We can't leave!"  
She says nothing as she turns and walks up to the large Andraste statue and drops to her knees.  
Tears threaten to overtake her as she looks up at the statue's unseeing eyes. She closes her eyes and prays for mercy.  
Her eyes snap open as somebody touches her shoulder. She quickly turns and looks up, wide-eyed at the Mother standing behind her.  
"I'm sorry I scared you, child." She says, giving Ana a rueful smile. "Your Warden-Commander asked me to retrieve you."  
As the mother holds out her hand and helps her up, Ana glances over to where Alistair was sitting to find it empty.  
"Where's Alistair?" Ana asks, her eyes searching for her brother-warden only to find that they're alone.  
"You must be speaking of the young Warden who was here with you earlier. He left to speak with the king a little over an hour ago."  
Once more, Ana's mouth runs dry. "I see. I imagine they have come to a verdict." She whispers, her voice hoarse. He eyes meet the older woman's. "Before I go, I have a favor to ask of you. Will you please pray for me, Mother? I imagine I will need it."  
"Of course, my child." She blesses Ana."Now, let's not keep your Commander waiting."

* * *

Ana's heart pounds in her chest as she's guided to the flap separating the small adjoining room from the main tent. She glances back at the Chantry Mother who gives her a reassuring smile as she nudges her forward. The flap falls behind her and she turns to face the room. The king, who had grown tired of the back and forth bickering between his father-in-law and the Warden Commander, left shortly before Ana was summoned, leaving the old General, her brother-warden and Duncan.  
Whatever the men were talking about ceases as she enters the room as all eyes turn to her.  
"Ana." Duncan says, his overall demeanor calm yet solemn. He beckons her forward. "Come closer."  
Reluctantly, she steps forward and stops a few feet away before being motioned to sit on the leftover pew.  
"As I'm sure you're aware, the King, General Loghain and I have been discussing the matter of the earlier incident. Do you admit to your part in the man's death?"  
Ana's eyes meet his with surprising intensity. "I do. I regret nothing."  
"Unbelievable." Loghain sneers and Duncan raises his hand to silence him, earning a grimace from his companion.  
"Alistair said that Roy was one of the men who attacked you. Is this correct?"  
Casting a glance at Loghain, she nods. "Yes. He was one of the two wardens-"  
"He wasn't a Grey Warden."  
"What?" Alistair exclaims, echoing Ana's thoughts.  
"It seems that he was one of who knows how many who have infiltrated our ranks."  
Ana's blood runs cold as she hears this. "Do you know who he actually works for?"  
Duncan shakes his head. "Not yet. But we will get to the bottom of this." Loghain impatiently clears his throat and Duncan sighs. "Despite the crime of impersonating a Grey Warden, there was a reason that Roy was in the cage. It turns out that he was awaiting trial for assaulting a man of the King's guard. Given that we're at war, he would have been found guilty and sentenced to death for his crime."  
"So Ana basically fast forwarded his sentence." Alistair says. Loghain rolls his eyes.  
"Technically." He growls. "She still interfered with justice. His life was not hers to take."  
"I beg to differ." Alistair retorts. He visibly swallows as Loghain's icy blue stare pierces through him but he holds his ground. "After all he and the others have done to her-"  
"Alistair." Ana hisses but he continues.  
"He even bragged about it when confronted!"  
"She still killed a man!" Loghain exclaims.  
"Silence!" All eyes turn to Duncan. He takes a moment before turning to Ana. "What I was trying to say that despite everything that has happened, you did interfere with justice. For that, we cannot just let you walk away scot-free. Normally, if we were not at war and you killed a man, you would hang." He recognizes the fear in her eyes and his expression softens slightly. "Due to circumstances, you will still be punished but to a far lesser degree. First, I need you to promise that regardless of the person and their crimes against you, you will not act impulsively and interfere. Understand?"  
She nods. "I understand and agree."  
He exhales. "Good. As for your punishment-"  
"Warden-Commander!"  
All eyes turn to the Warden scout who storms into the the tent,breathless and wide-eyed. Duncan narrows his eyes.  
"Lad, we're in the middle of something. Wait for me-"  
"Forgive me, Commander." The lad huffs. "I have urgent news about the darkspawn."  
Duncan's lips purse. "Go on."  
"While scouting the wilds, we found a very large horde gathering not too far from Ostagar."  
Duncan shrugs but his demeanor remains on edge. "Sometimes whole groups of darkspawn find their ways to the surface. This isn't anything to worry about."  
The man shakes his head. "It's no' like that. The number is in the hundreds and growing."  
"Fuck." Duncan mutters as he and the general exchange a glance. "Looks like the punishment will have to wait." Loghain gives a nod and quickly leaves the tent as Duncan turns to face his junior Wardens.  
"So it's finally happening." Alistair says, just above a whisper. "After all this time."  
"It's hard to say exactly how much time we have at this moment. For now, I want you both to stick together. Alistair, I want you to spend the last remaining daylight hours we have training Ana." He looks between them. "Until I have more information, what you heard doesn't leave this room. Understand?"  
They both nod and he motions vaguely toward the tent flap. "Good. Go. I will summon everyone once I know more."  
As the younger wardens watch Duncan disappear out the tent ahead of them, Ana's heart pound in her chest.  
Alistair turns, watching Ana for a few moments before speaking. "Are you all right?"  
Ana shrugs. Her mind feels so muddled that she can barely begin to comprehend it all. Her eyes meet his. "I need to warn my brother and Hawke."  
"Ana, you heard what Duncan said. What the scout said must never leave this room."  
She shakes her head frantically. "But they need to know! If the end is near..." She trails off.  
"I understand your concern." Alistair says, gently. "But Duncan doesn't want to start a panic."  
Straightening, she lift her chin. "I'm going,with you or not."  
"Ana-"  
Her demeanor falters slightly. "This is something I need to do. Duncan says that we need to stick together but I will do this alone if it comes to it."  
He prepares to argue with her but something in her expression makes him stop. "Fine." He sighs. "We can do it before training. It'll have to be quick. We'll need all the time we can spare."  
"Thank you." She mutters, averting her gaze. "I need to stop by our tent first to grab something.

* * *

Hugging her pack to her, Ana dodges a soldier as she approaches Fergus' tent. Slipping inside, she finds the area bustling as Fergus speaks with a middle-aged man in armor similar to her brother's. He clasps the man's shoulder and offers him a smile before turning. His face lights up at the sight of her.  
"Ana!" He says, stepping forward to embrace her. He stops a few feet away as his eyes flick to the side to see Alistair lingering near the flap. His smile falls slightly.  
"What's going on?" Ana asks, frowning as a servant brushes past carrying a medium sized chest.  
"I'm heading out soon. One of the king's scouts spotted an old outpost a little ways in the Wilds and my retinue has been volunteered to commandeer it." Seeing Ana's expression, he frowns. "What are you doing here? Are you all right?"  
Shaking her head, she looks around them and, grabbing his arm, she pulls him away from possible eavesdroppers. Her eyes meet his. "Don't go." She suddenly says.  
"Ana, I know you worry-"  
"No." She cuts him off. "I'm serious. The Wilds are dangerous and…" She stops to glance around them before lowering her voice. "Who knows if Howe is lying in wait?"  
Exhaling, Fergus places his hands on his sister's shoulders. "There's no need to worry. I've not received any news of that traitor since arriving here." He reaches up to touch her cheek. "It may not be as comfortable as you're used to at the castle but you're safe here."  
As he says this, her lip quivers. "I… I was attacked and almost raped." She blurts out.  
His hands drop from her and his gaze darkens. "What?" His eyes dart back and forth between hers. "When?"  
Tears break free and spill down her cheeks which burn with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry." She sniffs. "It was weeks ago and…"  
"Who was it, Ana?" He asks. "I will rip them limb from limb!"  
She shakes her head. "I...I don't know for sure." She sobs. "We thought they were Grey Wardens but… they apparently weren't. I have no idea who they really are."  
As she breaks off, he pulls her to him, allowing her to sob into his thick woolen tunic as he gently strokes her hair. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart." He mutters into her hair. His eyes shift to Alistair whose eyes widen at the sudden attention. He gives an awkward half wave in acknowledgment.  
"The Warden with you…"  
She pulls away, wiping her eyes. "That's Alistair. He was one of the people who saved me along with Hawke." She shrugs. "Duncan ordered him to stay with me at all times."  
Fergus glances at him once more. "Good." He mutters, turning to her. "I'm glad you have at least some semblance of protection here." A frown tugs at the corners of his mouth. The gleam of metal sticking out of her satchel catches his eye and he looks down. "What's that?"  
Pulling away, she reaches into her pack and removes the shield, the Cousland crest catching the light from the lanterns hanging above. "Maker's breath." He breathes.  
"Before I fled the castle, Mother gave me our family sword and shield to keep from Howe." Ana explains as she removes it from her pack and holds it out to him. "In case something happens… I want you to have it." He runs a hand over the embossed metal as Ana pulls out the sword.  
"Maker… I never thought I'd see this again." He mutters under his breath.  
"As Father's heir, you should have them."  
He looks up. "What?"  
Ana shrugs. "You're the only one who has use of them."  
"But you need them for your own protection." He meets her gaze with a frown. "As much as I may wish it so, it's clear that I won't always be around to protect you."  
"But you are the last surviving Cousland son." Ana argues. "Please...just take them. You are the last fighting chance for our family."  
Fergus opens his mouth to argue but seeing Ana's expression, he shuts it once more. Setting it down, he pulls her into another embrace. "I'm still very sorry about what happened to you and I know nothing can change that." He mutters as a man in armor calls to him from the tent flap that preparations are ready for his departure. He pulls away, offering her a small smile as he moves a lock of hair from her face. "I will return as soon as I can. In the meantime, promise me that you will protect yourself by any means necessary. Can you do that?"  
She nods. "I promise." She gives him a quick hug.  
After exchanging farewells, Ana follows her brother toward the gates. He swings up into the saddle, the Cousland crest on his shield gleaming in the watery autumnal light. Painful nostalgia overcomes Ana as she watches her brother and his retinue ride out through the gates. Tears streak down her cheeks as Alistair carefully comes to stand beside her. "Perhaps it's for the best." She mutters before reluctantly turning away. "Let's go find Hawke."

* * *

A twig snaps nearby. Nate quickly rises from where he was sitting and places a hand on his sword.  
"Hello?" He calls. Seeing Ana, his hand drops and he smiles. "Ana!" He greets, his eyes moving to the man with her. He nods. "Alistair. What do I owe the pleasure?"  
"I hope we're not disturbing you." Ana says as she approaches. Noticing her solemn expression, he frowns.  
"Not at all. I was returned a moment ago with my latest kill." He motions over to his hunting pack lying nearby. "Is everything all right?"  
She shrugs as she takes a seat on one of the logs. Nate glances at Alistair and raises a brow. Alistair opens his mouth to speak out Ana beats him to it. "Roy is dead."  
"Who?"  
"One of the men who…" She pauses, averting her gaze as heat rises to her cheeks. "One of my attackers."  
Nate snorts. "Serves him right. What happened?"  
A chill runs through him as her eyes meet his. "I killed him."  
Nate's eyes widen. "What?"  
Both Alistair and Ana recount the horrific event and all that led up to it. Once finished, Nate shakes his head. "What a bastard." He sneers. "I can't believe he had the fucking balls to brag about what he did." His expression softens. "I may not agree with you needing to punished for what you did but I'm glad your Warden-Commander is finally taking this threat seriously. If a Warden-"  
"He wasn't an actual Warden." Ana interjects. "Apparently, he was impersonating a Warden."  
Nate's eyes flick to Alistair as he takes a seat on one of the logs. His brows furrow. "If he wasn't a Warden, who was he? Who was he working for? Are there more of them?"  
Ana shrugs helplessly. "We have no idea. We just found out about him not being an imposter."  
Nate nods as he comprehends this. "I see…." He pauses. "Wait… what about that man that attacked your family ...what's his name? Howes?"  
"Rendon Howe." Ana replies, the name tasting like ashes in her mouth.  
Nate nods. "Do you think he knows you survived the attack? Perhaps he hired them?"  
The very thought of this made Ana want to throw up. How had she never thought about that possibility?  
"But wouldn't he have just had her killed?" Alistair asks. "What would be the point of…" His eyes flick to Ana and his cheeks redden slightly, "I mean, why would they just attack her? Obviously she poses a threat."  
Ana turns to look at him. "I get that you might not understand being so lowborn but for royalty and nobles, a woman is only worth as much as her virtue. If they could discredit me, I would be unable to marry into another noble family because they would see me as... " She pauses, her face contorting into almost an expression of pain, "spoiled goods."  
Alistair frowns. "But you're already no longer a maid."  
As soon as he the words leave his mouth, he regrets it. Ana rises and storms up to him with a piercing glare.  
"How dare you!" She hisses. "How the hell would you know? You know nothing about me or my life!"  
"I…" Alistair stammers but is unable to think as he tries to avoid her seething gaze.  
"You're lucky we're not training right now." She sneers. "Otherwise, you'd end up with a lot of cuts right now, or worse, like Roy."  
As she turns away from him, embarrassment begins to take over. "Sorry Hawke." She mutters, unable to meet his gaze. "We need to go but I just wanted to come see you and tell you about what we learned."  
"Thank you for the update." Nate replies, rising. "No need to apologize. I understand that you have duties you need to attend to." He takes a step forward. "Would it be all right to hug you?"  
Hesitantly, she nods and steps forward. They come together and Ana feels a well of tears beginning to rise as she closes her eyes as his warmth overtakes her as his strong arms hold her close. "Thank you for everything, Nate." She mutters.  
"Of course, Love." He whispers.  
As she mentally prepares herself to let him go, she turns her head. "I shouldn't be telling you this but there are large horde of darkspawn gathering near Ostagar." She whispers into his neck. "You need to know. The end may be soon and I recommend preparing for a fight very soon."  
She pulls away, her eyes expressing her fear while she offers him a smile. He nods and returns her smile.  
"Take care of yourself, Love."

* * *

Mid-way through a particularly tense training session, a Warden scout retrieves them and leads them into what looks to be an old Tevinter auditorium filled with Wardens. At the forefront of the crowd, Duncan stands on a small raised platform, grim faced as he chats with a couple senior Wardens. The scout that escorted them whispers something to him and he nods before turning to face everyone. A hush falls through the crowd as Alistair and Ana move closer to the front as they stick close the side of the room.  
"Thank you all for joining me." Duncan calls out, his booming voice bouncing off the walls of the ruin. "I'm sure you're all wondering what this could be about and, as unfortunate as it is for me to report, it's not good."  
Another ripple of whispers circulate until Duncan raises his hand for silence. Once they die down, he continues. "Recently, a scout has reported the numbers of darkspawn gathering not far from here to be increasing daily. Their numbers are massive; far more than we could ever have expected- something I know all of you have felt in some degree or another." More worried whispers. "After speaking with the leaders of the other factions and the King, there's a good chance that the battle is finally upon us and we will have to start preparing. General Loghain expects the battle take place tomorrow night, if not sooner."  
Hearing this, Ana's heart drops in her chest. Absently, she twists her parents' wedding ring around her finger.  
"I know that this is far sooner than any of us could have expected. Those who have duties assigned for tonight will continue as usual while the rest of you will continue preparations in the morning." His eyes find Ana's off to the side and he frowns. "Those who have no duties should head to bed. We will need all hands on deck tomorrow."

* * *

Ana stares up at the canvas, idly rubbing her mother's necklace. Anxiety about the battle ate at her, making her toss and turn to no avail. Beside her, Alistair also wrestled with the possibility of the end. Guilt sat like a rock in his stomach. As another snore emits from nearby, he rolls over to face the wall of blankets that Ana had placed between them.  
He exhales, debating whether or not he should wake her. "Ana." He finally whispers. He waits before saying her name again. With an exasperated sigh, she answers.  
"Go to bed, Alistair."  
"I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry about what I said." He whispers. "You were right. I don't know anything about you or your life and I shouldn't have said anything. It's your business, not mine."  
"It really isn't." She replies. After a moment, she sighs. "You're lucky. You're a boy so you can kiss and fuck anybody you want and not be looked down on because of it."  
Alistair's cheeks burn. "I've never done any of that." He mutters with a frown. "I'm going to probably die tomorrow and never know what any of it is like. I'm not sure which is worse."  
Silence permeates save an occasional snore and Alistair stains to listen for the usual snickering that follows such a confession. He hears movement and before he can stay her name, he feels the blankets between them move as she rests her head on them, looking down at him.  
"You've got to be joking." She hisses. "Surely by now, you've at least kissed a girl."  
"I haven't." He shrugs. "I joined the Wardens a couple months before you did. Before that, I lived in a chantry where I was training to be a Templar."  
"So?"  
He thanks the Maker for the darkness that hides his blushing. "So, men and women were usually separate. We trained together but the dorms were separated to prevent such… interactions."  
Ana snorts. "So… are you not into girls then?"  
Alistair groans. "Maker's breath. Of course I like girls!" He exclaims a little loudly earning a Warden nearby to hiss at him to be quiet. He mutters an apology and sighs. "Forget it. I just wanted to tell you I was sorry. I don't even know why I brought up the kiss thing."  
"Alistair…" Ana says softly as Alistair starts to ramble.  
"Maker, I really suck at talking to people. It's obvious you don't care that I haven't-"  
"Alistair, shut your mouth." Ana says, shifting once more but is ignored as he continues.  
"You'd think I would have at least learned in the Chantry-"  
Ana places a hand on the side of him and leans over so her face hovers a couple inches above his. His eyes widen and his breath catches,trailing off as his heart begins to race. "… what are you doing?"  
She hushes him and closes her eyes as leans down, a shiver running through her as their lips meet.  
His lips are so soft and warm that it takes her a moment to recover from her surprise. Snapping to, her hand moves to brush against his cheek, enjoying the feeling of his scruff against her hand. She pulls away slightly.  
"Do as I do." She mutters before leaning in once more. Their lips meet and slowly move against one another, finding the perfect rhythm before she slips her tongue into the mix. Mouths and tongues moving together, Ana shifts for easier access. Everything about this felt so… good. She could feel interest stirring between her legs. She wanted to go on, pushing things further.  
Feeling Alistair place a hand on her lower back, she's breaks the kiss. Heat rises in her cheeks as she remembers where she is.  
"I…" She mutters, her thoughts still scattered from the passionate kiss they just shared. She takes a moment to collect her to thoughts. Alistair lies still, still in shock about what just transpired. He feared moving as though it would shatter whatever dream-like situation was happening.  
"There." Ana finally says, quickly moving away from him and back toward her bedroll. "You can consider my debt paid." She says, hoarse with unfulfilled desire. She turns away from him and huddles under her blankets as she silently chides herself. "Goodnight." She mutters.  
Alistair remains still, feel of her lips on his burning like a brand. He swallows as he reaches up to touch his lips. "Yeah…" He mutters. "Goodnight."


	55. Thrown To The Wolves

The next day was a hive of activity as everyone bustled around the camp in preparation for the upcoming battle. Finally, the day had come.

After a fairly long day of training with the other wardens, Ana found herself once more finding solace in the Chantry tent. The tent - which normally sit vacant - was now near packed as soldiers from all retinues silently prayed to make it out of the battle alive. Bowing her head as she sat on the pew near the statue of Andraste, she clasped her hands together and closed her eyes as she tried to ignore the loud, frightened whispers and gentle sobs from the wives who stood off to the sides. " _Sword-shattering fear filled me overflowing. Grandeur of godhood no gaze should defile. Trembling, I called out: "Forgive me, Most High, I should sing Your Name to the heights of heaven, but I know it not, and must be silent._ " Ana whispers. She could feel the fear radiating outwards from her heart as it pounded in her chest. Her lip trembles. " _Andraste begs the Maker to give mortals another chance, then did I see the world spread before me. Sky-reaching mountains arrayed as a crown. Kingdoms like jewels, glistering gemstones. Strung across the earth as a necklace of pearl. 'All this is yours,' spoke the World-Maker. "join Me in heaven and sorrow no more.'"_

She then hears her name, a soft whisper that makes her open her eyes. She looks around until she notices Alistair kneeling beside her.

"Sorry if I scared you." He frowns. His gaze meets hers and he once more thinks about the kiss they shared the night before. His eyes flick down to her lips. Feeling the heat rise from his collar, he clears his throat. "We've been summoned by the King."

Her brows draw together. "The King? Why would he want to see us?"

Alistair shrugs, earning a sigh from Ana. Signing herself with the Maker's eye, she rises and dusts herself off before motioning him to lead.

Walking silently beside him, Ana strains herself to think of all the possible reasons for this sudden summons. Her thoughts drift to the night that Cailan hit on her and her heart begins to race. Could he be seeking one final fling before the final battle? Pushing it from her thoughts, she tried not to think about it.

The sun had been starting to set, the fading light casting long shadows within the ruins. The meeting place was no exception. The young wardens descended the stairs into what looked to once have been a great hall of some sort. Majority of one of the walls still stood, casting most of the partial room in shadow. Along a long table littered with candles -which flickered with the slight breeze that managed to slip through-maps and a surprising amount of tankards for the various people standing about the room.

As they reach the end of the small set of stairs, they find Duncan bent over one of the maps while Loghain and Cailan looked on with varying interest. When he rises once more, Loghain says something to the King to which he gets a sigh in response.

"Loghain, my decision is final." Cailan says. "I will stand by the Grey Wardens in this assault."

Ana glances at Alistair who looks on in confusion. Loghain shakes his head, his two thin braids shaking as he does so. "You risk too much, Cailan! The darkspawn horde is too dangerous for you on the front lines." He sneers. From the corner of his eye, he sees the two young wardens approach but focuses his ire on his son-in-law.

"In that case, perhaps we should wait for the Orlesian forces to join us, after all." Cailan smirks as Loghain pulls away with disgust.

Duncan takes a swig from a nearby tankard and turns away. Spotting his recruits, he motions them over.

"I must repeat my protest to your fool notion that we need those masked imbeciles to defend ourselves." Loghain hisses. "What are they going to do? Pull out their ridiculous yellow feathers and tickle the darkspawn to death? Be reasonable, Cailan!"

Cailan flinches as though struck. "It's not a 'fool notion'. Our arguments with the Orlesians are a thing of the past." Cailan retorts. "And you must remember who here is King."

Loghain rolls his eyes. "How fortunate that Maric did not live to see his son ready to hand Ferelden over to those who enslaved us for a century!"

Duncan clears his throat and, after a moment of glaring at one another, both men turn their attention to him.

"Forgive the interruption, Your Majesty; They're here."

Cailan turns, a wide smile spreading across his face as he spots the two young Wardens. "Ah, you two are indeed a welcome sight! Please, step forward."

They do as they're told and Cailan walks up to Alistair. "You must be Alistair." He smiles. "Duncan has told me a lot about you. Your family would be so proud of you. To be a Grey Warden is quite the honor."

Alistair's face flushes. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

"Your fascination with glory and legends will be your undoing, Cailan." Loghain growls from nearby. "We must attend to reality."

Cailan's smile remains intact but Ana notices the tension in his jaw as he turns to face her. Taking her hands in his, he smiles and kisses her hands. "A pleasure to see you again, My Dear."

"Cailan." Loghain urges. Cailan's hands drop from Ana's as he rolls his eyes with an exasperated sigh.

"Yes, yes." He mutters. "Let's discuss the plan then." He turns from the old general and places his gauntleted hands on the tables while everyone gathers around.

Loghain sighs heavily as he approaches the table. Everyone leans forward closely, pushing Ana and Alistair a little too close for comfort. Neither say anything as Alistair begins to blush. He forces himself to pay attention to Loghain as he begins to explain. "According to the Warden-Commander's reports, it seems that the darkspawn horde that has amassed just beyond the border between the Wilds and Ostagar is much larger than we had anticipated; So much more that they seem to outnumber us by twice as much, maybe more." Loghain pauses and moves a few of the pieces between the Wilds and old fortress. "West of Ostagar is a small valley. It's not much but it's narrow enough to get a fairly small group through. This small group will act as bait to lure the darkspawn in."

Duncan studies the map before him, nodding. "Then I'm assuming the rest of our forces will be lying in wait behind them. They will ambush and herd them through the valley where we will have them surrounded. Correct?"

"Almost." Loghain says with a smirk. "I wonder when you of all people learned battle tactics. Surely without a Blight you'd have little reason to learn."

Duncan opens his mouth to retort but Cailan beats him to it. "Now, Now Loghain." Cailan says, his irritation showing through his smiles. "We have more important issues at hand. What group do you suggest using as bait?"

"I was thinking the Grey Wardens." He replies, nonchalantly. He raises a hand to stop Cailan as his face reddens with anger. "Save your tantrum, Cailan. This is not personal, it's strategic."

"I can't wait to hear this." Duncan mutters, crossing his arms over his chest. He motions for him to continue.

"The Wardens have a fairly sizable amount within their ranks; Just enough to at least lure the darkspawn in so we can strike."

Ana's heart pounds widely in her chest like a caged bird. Would Loghain really send them all into the lion's den?

"As I stated before, I will stand with the Wardens. I will lead this excursion myself with Duncan, his Wardens and my honor guard."

"Cailan…" His father-in-law warns but his concern is merely waved away.

"No. The Grey Wardens and I draw the darkspawn into charging our lines and then what?"

Loghain sighs deeply, knowing well that Cailan had set his mind. "Then," he grumbles, "you will alert the tower to light the beacon, signaling for my men to charge from their cover-"

"To flank the darkspawn, I remember." Cailan finishes, his eyes lighting up. He smiles as his eyes roam the map. He points to a small structure near the corner of the map. "This is the Tower of Ishal, correct?"

"It is, Your Majesty." Duncan nods.

Cailan nods and turns his attention to Loghain once more. "And who will light the beacon?"

Loghain clears his throat. "I have a few men stationed there. It's not a dangerous task, but it is vital."

"Then we should send our best." Cailan says, straightening. His gaze falls on the two youngest Wardens and he smiles. "I say we send Alistair and the newest Grey Warden, Ana, to make sure it's done."

All eyes shift to them and Alistair's brows furrow. Ana suddenly can't breathe. "What?" She squeaks.

Loghain grimaces. "You rely on these Grey Wardens too much, especially these younger ones." He sneers, motioning in their general direction. "Is that truly wise?"

The look that Cailan shoots him is chilling. "Enough of your conspiracy theories, Loghain." He hisses. "Grey Wardens battle the Blight, no matter where they're from or how young they are."

Duncan clears his throat, and all turn to look at him. "Your Majesty, you should consider the possibility of the archdemon appearing."

As he says this, Ana begins to feel faint. An archdemon? Isn't that a dragon?

"There have been no signs of any dragons in the Wilds." Loghain retorts.

"Isn't that what your men are here for, Duncan?" Cailan asks. Duncan glances at Loghain, his brows creasing. "I…" He glances over at his recruits before nodding. "Yes, Your Majesty."

Two older mages whispering nearby cease their chat as one of them comes forward. He takes a step toward the king and two templars and Loghain nearby reach for their sword, watching the mage with suspicion.

The mage kneels, bowing his bald head. "Your Majesty, if I may be so bold?"

He nods. "Go on."

The mage glances warily at the men watching him before rising. "What I was going to say, Your Majesty, is that the tower and it's beacon are unnecessary. The Circle of Magi-"

An elderly chantry sister garbed in gold and orange robes clicks her tongue. "We will not trust any lives to your spell, mage! Save them for the darkspawn!"

"Enough!" Loghain roars. He shoots them both a glare. "This plan will suffice." He points to the young wardens. "The Grey Wardens will light the beacon." He straightens, his gaze sweeping over the leaders from each faction. "If all goes well, the darkspawn won't stand a chance."

"Thank you, Loghain." Cailan says with a smile. His eyes light up as he looks down at the map as though he can see it all being played out before his eyes. "I cannot wait for that glorious moment!" He swivels and clasps Duncan's shoulder. "Just imagine! The Grey Wardens battling beside the king of Ferelden to stem the tide of evil!"

Rolling his eyes, Loghain turns from them. "Yes, Cailan. A glorious moment for us all." He mutters. He glances at Alistair and Ana before grimacing and striding away. As the leaders begin to branch off to make ready, Ana and Alistair separate and await instruction as Duncan paces, his hand idly stroking his beard in thought. Alistair coughs and he stops his pacing to look at them as though he's seeing them for the first time. He sighs.

"This wasn't what I had imagined but perhaps it's for the best." He frowns, looking between them. "Like Loghain said, the lighting of the beacon is vital. With Ana's incomplete training-"

Alistair shakes his head. "I understand why she shouldn't be in the battle but what about me? I can fight! I can help defend the king!"

Duncan smiles sadly as he looks at the lad. He has such fight in him, just like his parents. "As much as I appreciate your courage, Alistair, this is a personal request from the king."

"So he needs two Grey Wardens standing up there holding the torch. Just in case, right?" He pouts. "I'm pretty sure that Ana can handle lighting a fire. Right?" He asks turning to her. Her eyes widen.

"I-" She begins to say but he turns from her. "Exactly! It's not a two-person job!"

Duncan sighs as he runs a hand over his face. "That is not your choice. If King Cailan wishes for Two Grey Wardens to be in the tower in ensure the beacon is lit, then two Grey Wardens will be up there. Besides," he says, motioning to her. He gives her a nod of acknowledgement, remembering the last time she was annoyed with not being acknowledged. "I specifically assigned you two to work together at all times. This time is no different."

He places a hand on the lad's shoulder. "We must do whatever it takes to destroy the darkspawn…. Exciting or no."

Alistair sighs. " I get it, I get it." He mutters miserably. "Just so you know, if the king asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold, I'm drawing the line, darkspawn or no."

Ana snorts and both men look at her. A smile curls the ends of Alistair's lips as she tries to conceal her laughter. He glances back at Duncan lets out a drawn-out sigh.

"Perhaps we should do that." Ana says with a shrug. "Perhaps Loghain would be okay with using Alistair as bait instead of all the Wardens and the king."

"Me shimmying down the darkspawn line?" Alistair snorts. "Sure, we could kill them as they roll around laughing."

"This is a serious matter, you two." Duncan snaps, his dark stare boring into them. They bow their heads like scolded children as Duncan continues. "As I'm sure Alistair already knows, the Tower of Ishal is on the other side of the gorge from the king's camp. It's the same way we came when we arrived, Ana." She nods but says nothing.

Duncan looks between his recruits. "You'll need to cross the gorge and head through the gate and up to the tower entrance. From the top, you'll overlook the entire valley."

Ana glances up, looking at him through her lashes. "Any when will we know to light the beacon?"

"We'll signal you when the time is right. Alistair will know what to look for."

Ana nods and Alistair raises his head. "Once the beacon is lit, then what do we do? Surely you'll need all the men you can get to fight, right?"

Duncan folds his arms over his chest. "Stay with the Teyrn's men and guard the tower. If you are needed, rest assured, we will send word."

Alistair opens his mouth to argue but closes it immediately with a look from Duncan."

"But what about that archdemon thing you spoke of during the meeting?" Ana asks. "If that shows up, what do we do?"

"We soil our drawers, that's what." Alistair quips. He shoots her a smile and she grimaces in return. He shrinks back.

"If it does, leave it to us in the field. I want no heroic from either of you." His gaze lingers on Alistair. "Especially you, Alistair." Alistair bows his head. With one more rueful glance, Duncan clears his throat. "Now, we don't have much time. Everyone is getting ready and the battle will begin very soon. You'll probably have an hour, give or take. I suggest you hurry. But be aware, even the best plans can go awry." He mutters. "If that happens, do what you must." He glances up to meet their gazes. "I trust you both."

"Just not enough to actually fight with the rest of you." Alistair comments bitterly. Ana rolls her eyes and, much to their surprise, Duncan gives a lighthearted chuckle. "There will be plenty of battles, Alistair. Be patient."

Suddenly, Ana steps forward and grabs Duncan's hand. His brows furrow as she lies her forehead on it before looking up at him, her brilliant blue eyes filled with worry. "May the Maker watch over you, Duncan." She frowns.

His expression softens as he places a large hand on hers, almost engulfing it completely. "May the Maker watch over you too, Lady Ana." He says, surprisingly tender. His smile falls as he looks up at his other recruit. "Watch over each other and take care of yourselves." He says, glancing at Ana. "May the Maker watch over us all."


	56. The Battle of Ostagar

A light sprinkling of rain had begun to fall as the two young recruits walk together toward the main encampment, the only sound between them being the occasional chink from pieces of Alistair's plate metal hitting together as he walked. He forces himself to look ahead for fear of her catching him staring and berate him for gawking at her. He turns in the direction Duncan indicated only to find himself walking alone. His brows furrow and he swivels around, finding her walking in the opposite direction.

"Ana!" He calls, jogging after her. He touches her arm and she stops abruptly and he almost collides with her. She glares at him as she snatches her arm away. "What?"

"The gorge is the other way." He says, motioning off in the opposite direction. "Duncan said we don't have much time to dawdle."

"I'm not dawdling." She mutters, beginning to walk once more. "I'm going to get my mabari. I've already lost everything I hold dear. I'm not going to lose him too." She starts to jog and Alistair lets out an exasperated sigh before setting off after her.

As they approach the marabi pens, Ana calls out for her hound as she looks around the hounds and warriors bustling about in preparation. "Much!" She calls again. This time she hears a sharp bark a short distance away and takes off in the direction of it. She calls and receives a bark in response until she finally finds him. "Much!" She exclaims, rushing over to his pen. She kneels before it and sticks her hands through the woven bars, smiling as he licks her hand happily. She sees the red markings all over his body and frowns as she rises. "What's happened to you?" She asks. She places her hand on the gate when a man with red war paint on his face and arms yells at her to step away. He sneers at her as he gets between her and Much.

"What do you think yer doin', Lass?" He hisses. "That ain't no lap dog yer messing with." His eyes take in her appearance and blue and silver tabard. "You should run along. Yer commander should be waiting for ya on the frontlines."

"I'm not leaving without my dog." She hisses. "Step aside."

Alistair steps up, earning a challenging glance. "Forgive us. Duncan gave us special orders."

"I doubt those orders included stealing one of the king's mabari." The man sneers. "Move along."

Just as he says this, a couple shouts sound at the far side of the ruin where everyone seemed to be gathering. The man doesn't move.

"I said, move." Ana growls. "Move or I swear to the Maker-"

A loud shriek in the distance makes everyone turn to look. Ana's blood runs cold. "What the hell was that?" She asks, echoing the thought of both men.

"Hurry! It's happening!" A soldier calls as they run through the ruins, searching for anybody still getting ready. "They're coming! Get in your places!"

"Ana." Alistair hisses. "We need to go now!"

"Not without Much!" The desperation makes its way through her voice but before she could do anything, Alistair grabs her hand, pulling her away.

"No!" She screams. "Much!"

Much barks helplessly at his owner as she's pulled away. Ana tries to pull away from her brother-warden but his grip is like a vice. "Let go! I need to get Much!" She exclaims, tears streaming down her face. "Alistair!"

"We don't have time!" He quickly whirls around and lifts her over his shoulder, muttering an apology as he sprints toward the bridge. He feels her kicking and hitting as she makes various threats but he doesn't stop.

* * *

The man's shouts can be heard through the ruins as Duncan and the king moves through the crowd to the front lines. Cailan grimaces as he motions one of his guard to him. "Find whoever that is and get him to be quiet." He hisses. "We don't need an outbreak of mass hysteria right before the battle!" The guard nods and quickly moves back through the crowd

"The plan will work, Your Majesty." Duncan says, striding beside him. "As long as everything is done accordingly."

Cailan waves his words away dismissively. "I know it will!" He grins. "This battle is my destiny, Duncan. The Blight ends here, and I will go down in history as the king who bravely ended it in a glorious battle alongside the famous Grey Wardens!"

Duncan sighs, casting a glance over his shoulder. Through a small opening between the ruins, he can just barely make out the top of the Tower of Ishal, stark white against the darkened sky. _I hope they're safe._

His thoughts are interrupted as the whispers begin to creep into his subconscious. It's soft at first as gasps ripple around them. Duncan looks up as what looks like millions of torches begin to glow. The Korcari Wilds are mostly dark and concealed mostly by its usual thick blanket of mist but the lights silhouette the contorted bodies as they slowly emerge, stopping right at the edge. Duncan's hands ball at his sides.

Darkspawn of all shapes and sizes emerge and wait, their blank stares peering across the battlefield as they open their jagged maws to let out a frightening cry. Taking in the sharp, jagged swords and spiked armor along with the rotting flesh of the monsters, one of the King's honor guard standing a few feet ahead of him slowly backs up and jumps as Duncan touches the lad's shoulder. The soldier's eyes are wide and full of fear as they stare at Duncan who simply frowns, shaking his head.

"Maker's breath." Cailan mutters under his breath. He could feel himself shaking but raised his chin defiantly as giant horned creatures emerge from the mists along with a stocky darkspawn in full, crude armor. Cailan's brows furrow as his gaze sweeps down the rather long line of darkspawn eagerly awaiting to tear into their foes. "Why aren't they doing anything?" He hisses, casting a quick glance at Duncan. Before he can answer, the darkspawn in the stocky armor motions forward with a roar that seemed to echo throughout the valley. With a loud cacophony of shrieks and roars the line is broken as the darkspawn begin to sprint at them.

Fear grips at Cailan's heart as he watches the incoming horde and raises his gauntleted hand. "Archers!" He calls out. "Ready your arrows!"

Duncan turns as rows upon rows of archers from behind them nock their arrows as others rush by and set them alight with torches. Cailan's eyes narrow as the force gets closer. "Steady!" He calls as the rain, which had since progressed toward a full downpour, soaked his hair, plastering the pale blond strands to the side of his face as he waited. Once a third of the way down the field, Cailan motions forward. "Fire!" He yells. A wall of flaming arrows fly up into the sky before coming down in a blanket of death. Darkspawn left and right scream in agony as they're set ablaze or shot multiple times. Those who managed to survive the assault trample over their dead comrades with no remorse as they continued with increased fervor.

"Archers! Ready yourselves once more!" Cailan calls. "Ballista make ready to take out the flanks."

Once more, arrows arch through the sky, taking out the majority of the incoming wave before the ballistas cut through the flanks. Like before, the darkspawn seemed unfazed by their kind being cut down before them as they continued to funnel through the valley. The distance between them and the king's forces begins to shrink dramatically with each passing second. Cailan swallows. He turns and signals toward the leader of the ash warriors standing beside his kaddis painted war hound beside him. The man nods. "Hounds!' The man calls out.

They watch as the hounds are released. Cheers sound behind the king as the dogs cut through the horde, tackling some to the ground. The darkspawn shriek in agony and outrage until the yelps of hounds cut through the valley as the jagged blades sink into the short, muscular bodies.

Ash warrior cry out and have to be held back as they watch their hounds being torn apart before them. Duncan looks up at the king who watches in horror at the bloodshed happening before his eyes. He then reaches for his sword and raises it high. "For Ferelden!" He yells earning cheers in return as the charge begins.

* * *

"Let me go!" Ana screams, hitting Alistair square in the jaw with her elbow. Stopping just before the bridge, he sets her down and doubles over to catch his breath. She tries to take off back the way they came but Alistair snatches his hand out and grabs her wrist. She fights him as tears stream down her face. "Let go!"

"Ana!" He says breathlessly. "We don't have time! The king-"

She stops fighting. "But… but Much." She mutters, her eyes bright with tears.

"I'm sorry." Alistair frowns, straightening. "But he's a war hound. I'm sure he'll be fine."

A large boom sounds from the gorge below and they both look around as soldiers and servants scurry across the bridge toward them, their eyes wide with fear.

"What was that?" Ana asks.

Alistair shrugs. "No idea but we need to go. Come on!"

Ana looks reluctantly back in the direction they came and Alistair quickly grabs her hand, pulling her along. Together they run, dodging other people quickly escaping. Alistair holds Ana's hand tight as he pushes the people aside. "Move! Move aside!" He calls. Ahead of them, a huge flaming boulder arcs across the sky and hits a couple unsuspecting people and taking out a portion of the railing of the bridge. The bridge shakes from impact and Ana stops.

"Come on!" Alistair calls, pulling her. "We need to move fast."

Frightened, Ana nods and follows him. More flaming boulders hit the bridge in quick succession, punching whole portions out before them. Nearing one of the holes, the bridge beneath Ana's feet gives way. She screams as she falls, barely managing to grab the ledge with one hand. "Help!" She cries as Alistair continues on, unknowingly. Hearing her voice, Alistair turns, his eyes widening.

"Hold on!" He calls as he rushes back, jumping over bodies and debris on his way. Ana's grip begins to slip.

"Hurry!"

Alistair's breastplate sparks as he jumps and slides belly first to the edge. He grabs her arm as he reaches for her other hand. "Reach for my other hand!" He calls, sweat pouring down his face. "I've got you!"

She reaches for him frantically, missing the first time then finally grabbing his hand. Another hit to the bridge makes it shake, earning a cry from Ana. "Help!"

"I got you!" Alistair says through clenched teeth. "Come on. Try to pull yourself up."

With a fair amount of struggle, he manages to pull her up as another fireball whizzes past. He pulls her to her feet, urging her on. As they make it to the other side, something hits a nearby tower. It breaks apart and the larger part slowly begins to fall toward them. Pulling Ana, they manage to barely jump out of the way as the pieces collides with the side of the bridge and breaking into little pieces and crushing the railing before descending into the gorge below. The two wardens pick themselves back up and dust themselves off before taking off toward the tower.

Alistair's brow draw together as they near the surprisingly unmanned giant wooden gate. They slow to a stop, the sounds of catapulted fire echoing through the ruins behind them. "Where are the guards?" He wonders aloud, walking around and checking under scaffolds and in the small lookout room.

"Maybe they had the sense to flee." Ana offers from behind him. "Or they joined the battle."

Alistair shakes his head. "They should have still been here to open the gate for us. Hello!" He calls out. "We're the Grey Wardens who are here to light the beacon!" Receiving no answer, Alistair places his hands on his hips, his lips cast downward in a frown. "Something isn't right." He mutters. He turns on his heel. "We need to find a way in. It's the only way to the tower."

Just as he says this, the doors burst open, almost hitting him in the process. He jumps back as a frightened looking soldier emerges, glancing around frantically. Seeing Ana, he rushes over to her. "Miss!"

She stiffens as he grabs her arms roughly, his expression wild. "Miss, you're a Grey Warden!"

She opens her mouth to reply but fear constricts her throat. Receiving no response, he shakes her. "Are you not?"

"Release her!" Alistair calls, jogging over. As the man releases her, Alistair motions her behind him as he gets between them. "Calm down, man. What's happened?"

The man's eyes widen even more. "T-the tower! It's been invaded!"

Alistair's brows draw together as he looks down to see the Theirin crest on the man's bloodied armor. "You're part of the royal army." He mutters, glancing up to meet the man's gaze. "What do you mean the tower has been invaded? By whom?"

"Darkspawn!" He exclaims. "They came up from somewhere in the depths of the lower levels." He glances off in the distance as though watching a replay of it in his mind's eye. "They slaughtered all my men. I... I was the only one who managed to escape."

Alistair turns slightly to exchange a helpless glance with Ana who shrugs. He turns back. "We'll have to hurry then. Did you see any of the Teyrn's men in there?"

The man shakes his head. "No. They might be in the upper levels. I just had to get out!"

Alistair nods, waving for him to go before turning to face his sister-warden. "If they are further up than where he was, we might be able to warn them." He begins to turn but stops as Ana speaks.

"What if they aren't there?" She asks. "Then what?"

He looks back, his expression grim. "Then we'll have to light the beacon ourselves."

Making their way up the slanted walkway to the tower, Alistair readies his sword and shield. He stops before the door and glances over. "Ready?" He asks as Ana fumbles nervously with her small Warden shield and short sword. Swallowing, she nods.

"Do you remember what I taught you?"

"We'll find out." She mutters miserably. He nods and pushes the door open.

The inside of the tower is quiet like a tomb. The only sound that can be heard are their boots, Alistair's plate mail armor and the flickering of the torches on the walls leading into the inner chamber. Weapons drawn, they round the corner and enter the center only to find splintered wood, racks of weapons and crates of food stacked around the pillars circulating the center of the room.

Moving quickly yet cautiously up the levels, they peer into each room only to find them devoid of soldiers and monster alike.

"We should be near the top." Alistair says, breathlessly as he pushes open yet another door. He pauses, a quiet whisper tugging at the back of his mind.  
"What is it?" Ana asks.

He listens for a moment, shaking his head. "There's something nearby."

"Darkspawn?" She asks, her eyes wide. "How close?"

He listens and shrugs. "I have no idea. I could be sensing them from below us getting closer or I could be sensing some within the next couple levels." He frowns. "I'm not sure the exact direction. I just know it's close. We should be careful."  
They quickly enter, scanning the place for potential threats only to hear sharp whines from the cages that lined the walls. Sheathing her sword, Ana rushes over and kneels before a cage at the far end of a row where a lone mabari paws at the door of its cage. "Poor thing!" Ana frowns. "Who would abandon such a helpless creature?" She looks up. "We need to do something. We can't just leave him here at the mercy of those...things!"  
Alistair's about to argue but one look at Ana and the mabari, he relents. "You're right." He nods, glancing around. "There's got to be a ring of keys or something around here. Help me look; It'll go quicker."

As they looked about the room, something hits the tower, cracking the wall and sending both Wardens to the floor. They clamber back to their feet.

"I'll check these rooms." Ana offers, motioning the small hallway linking up to a set of stairs. She opens the door and lets out a blood-curdling scream that alerts both Alistair and the two hurlocks within the barracks, mid-feeding. Ana spots the torn remains of what she assumes to be the soldiers they were looking for sitting piles among the destroyed beds and other furniture scattered about. She sees the wide eyes look of terror on the face of a man who's inners were the only thing holding him as he hung over the side of one of the upper bunks that are surprisingly still in tact. Setting down their meals, the hurlocks roar, their jagged, scarred maws still dripping with fresh blood before rushing toward her. Frozen in place, her hands shake as she tries to lift her shorts word.

"Watch out!"

Alistair thrusts his shield in front of her just in time as one of the Hurlocks reaches out at her with its razor sharp claws. He pushes her out of the way to block another attack which breaks her from her trance. She backs up, her grip sweaty as she tries to determine what she should do. Then it comes to her. The mabari!

Racing back to the room, the hound barks as it senses activity.  
"Ana!" Alistair calls. "Come back!"

"Hold on!" She exclaims, looking under tables and behind crates. "I'm getting some help!"

"Hurry!"

Her heart pounds loudly in her chest and she can just barely make out the sounds of clashing metal and the barking of the hound over the rushing of blood in her ears. _Come on, Ana. Think!_

She looks around, forcing herself to focus until she sees it. Smiling to herself, she rushes over as Alistair calls for her once more.  
"Hold on!" She calls, wiping her hands on her tabard before grasping the leveler in the far corner. She struggles as she tries to pull it with little result. Putting her weight into it, the level slowly begins to move. "Almost got it!" She jumps and pulls down on it with her full weight and it finally moves completely. She hears the cage nearby open and looks upward to see the marabi escape its cage and rush toward Alistair. She flips over just in time to see Alistair get knocked back. His sword gets knocked from his hand but just as the last Hurlock lunges at him, its intercepted by the mabari who tackles it to the floor. The Hurlock screeches as it tries to fight the hound off while Alistair takes advantage of the distraction. He quickly gets back to his feet and grabs his sword. "Come on!" He calls, waving her over. "Let's go before any others show up!"

She scrambles to her feet and runs after him, pausing as he continues up the stairs. "Wait! The mabari!"

The Hurlock's screams halt and they watch as the mabari, soaked in black ichor trots happily up to them.  
"Good dog." Alistair smiles, taking Ana's hand once more. "Come on."

Together they run up the spiral steps to the very top. Alistair's hand drops from her own as he sprints over to the giant open window. "The battle is still going!" He reports, waving her over.  
The mabari trots over as Ana takes a moment to catch her breath and look around at the elaborate stone and stained-glass dome of Tevinter workmanship overhead. It was surprising that most of the windows had even survived this long. She starts over to Alistair and peers down at the battle in the valley below.

"Which one is our forces?" She asks, hoping that it's the massive horde of armor still pouring out of the trees.

"There." Alistair points at the mass near the ruins. He glances up. "There! There's the signal." He grins, pointing at a small, single light arcing through the sky. "Good! We didn't miss it!"

Ana remains by the window watching as Alistair retrieves a torch from one of the holders on the wall. He looks around him before walking over to what looks like a giant fireplace and kneels before it. "For Ferelden." He whispers, thrusting the torch into the debris filled space.


	57. The Help That Never Came

Loghain watches the fight from his cover on the hill before watching the skies. "Where is that bloody beacon?" He sneers, more to himself than his lieutenant standing beside him. "I knew the Grey Wardens were far too incompetent for such an easy task."

"Ser, wait. Look!"

He glares at her before following her finger to where a small single light rises up from the trees. His eyes dart over to the top of the tower. _Come on, you idiots. How hard is it to light a single fucking beacon? Just light the bloody thing._

Within moments, the beacon is lit, a huge flame erupting from the top like a giant torch. He grimaces.  
"I await your command, Ser." His lieutenant says.

His eyes sink down to the battle below. Even from here, it's clear that the battle is lost.  
"Ser?"

Loghain rolls his shoulders. "Sound...the retreat."  
Her brows crease as he looks at him like he's gone mad. "W-what?" She frowns. "What about the king?"

She gasps as he reaches out, snatching her by the wrist. Leering at her, he bares his teeth. "Do as I command."

She swallows, her anger replacing her fear as she violently yanks her arm away. Turning away from him, she calls to her men to retreat as Loghain looks down his nose at the field. _I'm sorry, Maric._ He thinks grimly to himself. _I warned him that his fascination with glory and legends would be his undoing, but he never listens to me._ He sneers. "Father like son, I suppose." He mutters before he turns and follows his troops.

* * *

Duncan ducks as a jagged blade swings at his neck before smashing his shield into the beast with a groan. It staggers backwards, allowing him to swing his own sword upwards, his blade sinking deep. Black ichor squirts out as the hurlock scream, bringing it's claws down toward him only to be knocked away with his shield before he plunges his sword into the creature's chest. The creature shrieks as it crumples to the ground before Duncan pulls out his sword and looks around at the fighting around him in search of another opponent.

A hurlock emissary hisses nearby, earning a glare from the old warden. It moves its claw-like hands together and a small wicked looking orb appears. Before it can summon anything, Duncan drops his shield with surprising speed and throws his dagger, smirking as it finds purchase through the cloth covering its eyes. Immediately, its hands fall to its sides and it sinks to the ground. _Still got it._ Picking up his shield, he looks around him as he jogs forward to retrieve the dagger with some effort from the creature's eye.

As he pries it free, he feels that familiar whisper that tugs at his mind. Closing his eyes, he focuses in on the direction and turns to look at the king.

Cailan swings his sword around with practiced finesse, slicing creature after creature open before plunging his blade into one and kicking it off, completely unaware of the lumbering ogre making its way toward him behind his back. In one swift movement of its massive armored arm, three soldiers fly through the air.

"Your majesty!" Duncan calls out to him from a little way down the field. "Behind you!"

Cailan, his momentary victorious smile still on his face, turns around. His smile fades as the beast takes notice of him and runs at him. Duncan takes a step to help him just as he's hit hard from behind, he stumbles, turning as a little genlock grins up at him with its sharp teeth as it swings around a wicked looking mace. With a war cry, Duncan charges at the creature with his shield out ahead of him, knocking it over as it hits it square in the face. He swings his sword around, aiming the tip just right before pushing down. With a shriek, it tries to wriggle free while the taint pours out of its wound as Duncan twists the blade. He looks up, just as the ogre approaches the king.

"No." Duncan breathes. Pulling his sword out, he picks up his shield and starts sprinting toward Cailan, jumping over fallen bodies of soldiers and darkspawn alike and dodging the various fires.

The ogre swings its arm knocking the shield from the king's hand. Cailan gapes up at it, swinging aimlessly at it but it makes little difference as it reaches down and grabs him.  
Cailan's heart pounds in his chest as the beast's grip tightens on him, making him drop his sword.

"Your Majesty!" Duncan calls out.  
Cailan struggles against the creature's hold which only seems to anger it as it lets out a ferocious roar, the rank stench of decay and rancid spittle spraying him right in the face. It raises the king up as though to throw him. As Cailan lets out a strangled cry, the beast flicks his wrist and a sickening crunching snap echoes through the field as Cailan goes limp in its grasp.  
"No!" Duncan cries. Distracted, he runs full speed and trips on a fallen soldier and flies through the air just a few yards away. The air gets knocked out of him and he gasps as he tries to take in a breath. He looks up, just as the beast flings the king's lifeless body. Duncan watches as it flies through the air before hitting a wall and toppling onto the ground.

Anger bubbles up inside of him as the creature roars, banding on its giant chest. Picking himself back up, he tosses aside his shield and runs at it, dagger in one hand, sword in the other. Nearing it, vaults himself off a pile of darkspawn corpses and flings himself into the air at it, his blades ready. It turns just as they sink deep into its flesh. It roars, taint pouring out of its wounds and over his gauntlets. With one hand still on the hilt of his sword, he manages to retract his dagger before thrusting it back into the beast's neck. With another roar, taint spritz out and into his face, but it doesn't let up. As one blade goes in, he pulls the other out and stabs it in another place and twists it. Over and over he stabs, twists and releases until finally he feels it begin to stagger. Exhausted, he pulls out his dagger once more and, with one swift motion, he stabs the creature's heart. He holds on for dear life as it sways, trampling brethren and foe alike before finally falling back into a pillar. Breathing heavily from the exertion, Duncan waits as he watches for movement. When the creature remains still, he uses the hilts of his blades to pull himself up into a sitting position. He wipes his brow and looks around. An arrow then whizzes through the air and hits him square in the torso. He lets out a pained cry, grabbing the arrow by the shaft and pulling it out. He tosses it aside and look up to see the archer responsible down the field a ways. He touches his stomach and pulls his hand away to see the bright blood staining his armor. "Fuck." He mutters. Another arrow whizzes past as he rolls to the side, landing with a soft thud and groans. He sucks in a couple labored breaths and remembers the king. With a pained cry, he pulls himself up enough to look around as darkspawn hack and slash away at soldiers left and right until he spots the crumpled form of the king, his golden hair and armor stained red with blood.

With strained effort, Duncan slowly crawls over to Cailan's corpse. Reaching over, he turns his head to face him and sees the terrified, wide-eyed look frozen on the lad's face. His jaw clenches. _Where the hell are you, Loghain?_ He closes Cailan's eyes, his exhaustion taking over as he leans on him to stay upright. _Poor lad didn't deserve this. I'm so sorry, Maric._ He thinks, closing his eyes. A few arrows whiz behind him, sticking into his back one after another. He lets out a pained cry. His head raised, his eyes open and he see the beacon glowing brightly in the night sky. He smiles through his pain. _They did it._ He thinks, wincing as another arrow hits his back. "May the Maker watch over them." He whispers before everything goes black.

* * *

Alistair watches the battle below, shaking his head in disbelief. "I don't understand!" He mutters. "He should have been there by now! The beacon is lit!"

Out of frustration, Alistair throws the torch in his hand out of the window. The fires below engulf it and Ana looks over at him. He moves away from the window, pacing back and forth muttering to himself. For a moment, Ana worries that he's finally lost it.

"Maybe he's gotten turned around in the dark." She offers. "That happens… right?"

Alistair shakes his head. "No. Not him. He's a seasoned general!" He exclaims, turning to face her. "He's led many troops for my… his majesty's father! He wouldn't get turned around in the dark."

He turns to stride back to the window just as the wall behind Ana explodes.

"Ana!" Alistair cries out as she's knocked to the floor, shards of stained glass and debris falling around and on her. Running over to her, he slides and raises his shield over them just as a huge shard of glass falls as something hits the tower again. Huge chunks of stone behind to fall around them as Alistair looks over Ana's unconscious body. "Ana!" He says, his voice hoarse from the dust around them. "Come on! Not you too!"

Another strike, more debris falls. One huge chunk of rock hits his shield hard enough that he collapses on top of her. He mutters an apology as he pushes himself up. "Come on, Ana. Wake up! We need to get out of-"

Another blast hits the tower and within moments, both wardens are buried.


	58. An Unusual Exchange

Alistair drifted and out of consciousness. The world was a blur of random images from the battle peppered in with scenes long since passeda. They seemed to float aimlessly around in the pool of his thoughts, as though they were being blown about viciously by a hurricane. He remembered small snippets of what could have been reality. He remembered the sound of leathery wings and two women speaking in hushed tones beside a hearth, one with black hair, the other with grey. Every time he felt like he was regaining his wits, he retreated into wallowing blackness.

This time, it was the dull ache that roused him from his slumber. With a sigh, he cracks open his eyes, the light from the nearby fire too bright. He raises his hand, just enough to block out the light enough to see the long, slender silhouette of a woman. Her hood was drawn up as she bent over to stir something in the large pot hanging over the fire. He attempts to shift which only makes the dull ache sharpen. "Fuck." He mutters with a wince.

As he becomes increasingly aware of the coolness of the air, he becomes suddenly aware of his lack of clothing. His cheeks burn as he holds the blanket close to himself, half wondering if he's still dreaming. He reaches under the blanket to pinch himself, emitting a surprised yelp that alerts the woman. She looks over, unamused. His brows shoot up, fully wake, perhaps more fully awake than he's ever been.

"You!" He says, taken aback by how rusty and squeaky his voice sounds. His embarrassment is only deepened as her darkly painted lips curl upwards into an amused grin.

"Ah, your eyes are finally open, if more so than necessary. Mother will be pleased."

"Like your meals to fight back?" He sneers. "Is that why I'm…" He begins, his face burning under her amused gaze. "Where are my clothes, you...sneaky...witch thief!"  
Her amusement quickly transitions to mild annoyance. "I see the rocks that fell upon you did little to fix your manners." She sighs. She strides across the little room to a chest and opens it. She rifles inside a few moments before throwing a pair of trousers and a worn shirt to him which makes him flinch. She rises, motioning to the clothes strewn across the blanket. "There. You may put those on, if it pleases you."  
Alistair looks down. "Those aren't _my_ clothes." He says, wrinkling his nose as he pokes them with his finger. "Seeing as there are no men about, I doubt I want to know how you got these. Former victims perhaps?"

Morrigan's golden eyes narrow. "I believe a bit of gratitude would suffice." She says tensely. "Mother is still repairing the damage _yours_ sustained."

His brows knit together as a foggy memory resurfaces. He rubs his head and feels the remains of a welt near the tip of his ear. He frowns. "Wait…" He glances up at her and she raises a brow. "What happened? I remember a blast…"  
"Very good." She says mockingly. Her lips turn up into a sardonic smirk as he glares at her. "You were injured, and then Mother rescued you. Do you not remember?"  
"Obviously not." He retorts, rubbing his head once more. "Also, just so you know, the way you keep saying 'Mother' is super creepy."

Her brows raise in amusement. "What else would I call her? Old woman?"

"I don't know!" He whines. He rubs his temple as the slow dull ache of a headache begins to resurface. "What about the battle?" He asks, looking up hopefully. "What about King Cailan? Is he-?"

Morrigan simply shrugs, bending down to retrieve a pair of boots that have seen better days before shutting the lid of the chest. She rounds the bed, smirking as Alistair tightly grips the blanket to his chest in an attempt to cover himself. "The man who was to respond to your signal _quit_ the field." She says, tilting her head to the side slightly as she watched his reaction. "The darkspawn won your battle." She watches as the emotions crossing his face change quickly from disbelief, to grief and then to anger. "Those he abandoned were massacred."

His head droops. "No…" He mutters, his eyes closing. "You're lying."

"What reason would I possibly have to lie?" She asks, curiously. "I have nothing to gain from telling you this."

He knew that what she was saying was true but the very thought of his fellow wardens, the king and Duncan rotting in a field -or worse, being fed on by those creatures- was almost too much to bear.

Setting the boots down, she rises. "I will leave you to dress. There's stew if you're hungry and a cloak on the chair. It is quite cold out and Mother wishes to speak with you. She's outside with your friend."

Alistair's eyes widen. "Ana." He whispers. "So, she's alive?"  
Morrigan stops by the door, her slender hand poised on the doorknob. "She is." And with that, she leaves the hut. As soon as she's gone, Alistair falls back onto the bed.

* * *

Ana stares at the fire, watching the flames dance as the cool breeze blows past. After waking and hearing the news of what happened she sat down beside the fire, a thick wool blanket wrapped around her and hadn't moved. She barely spoke as the older woman chatted on with little care if she was listening or not. It apparently been a few days since the battle and the woman, who claimed her name to be Flemeth, had nursed both herself and Alistair to health after rescuing them from the tower. A feat that made little sense to her given that the tower would have been overrun with darkspawn or rubble at the rate of blasts that hit it. The woman barely looked as though she could handle a single set of stairs let alone trudge up the 12 or so levels that they climbed to get to the top.

The younger woman, Morrigan, choses that moment to step out of the seemingly small hut. She says something to her mother before turning her attention to Ana. Ana's eyes flick over to her and her scantily clad wardrobe. _How in the Maker is she able to wear so little and yet not freeze?_ Ana wonders to herself, hugging the blanket closer.

"Your friend seems to have awoken." She says casually. Using a stick, she stokes the fire.

"He's not my friend." She mutters.

Morrigan raises a perfect brow. "Oh? You two seemed rather cozy when Mother found you."

"Now, now Morrigan." Flemeth gently chides as she flips the garment she's been mending over, her bony fingers probing for other tears. "There's no need to antagonize the guests." She lets out a sharp cackle.

"He's my brother-warden." Ana says.

"Of course he is, Dear." Flemeth says, a knowing smile playing upon her lips.

"Whatever he is, he's not taken the news well." Morrigan says, a half-smile forming as Ana looks up with minor interest. "He's veered between denial and grief."  
Ana shifts slightly, averting her gaze. "Since he's alive enough react to the news, I expect his injuries weren't severe."

"For somebody who isn't your friend, you seem quite relieved." Morrigan grins.

"Morrigan." Flemeth shoots her daughter a look which Morrigan brushes off, turning from Ana with a smirk as Ana's cheeks pinken. Flemeth turns to her guest. "Both of your injuries were nearly fatal but it's nothing magic couldn't heal."

Ana's brows knit together before she notices the long, twisted wood of a staff leaning up against the wall of the hut behind the older woman. "You're a mage." She blurts out.

Flemeth smiles. "Something like that."

"More like a witch."

All three women turn as Alistair, looking a little worse for wear steps out into the light. He squints as the sun glints off the snow and reaches up to shield himself. Seeing the various scratches on his face, Ana rises from her seat to face him.

"You're alive." He says. "I thought you were dead for sure."

"You too." Ana nods.

"Yeah…" His gaze falls as he watches his breath in the cold air. "Duncan…"

"I know." She mutters.

He shakes his head. "This doesn't seem real. If Morrigan's mother didn't come to our aid, we'd be dead just like the rest of them."

"Do not speak about me as if I'm not present, lad." Flemeth say. He turns, a rueful expression on his face.

"Sorry. I don't mean-" His face reddens as he trails off. "What do we call you? When we last met you never told us your name."

"You've met before?" Ana gapes.  
Alistair turns to her. "Yes. When I went into the Wilds with the recruits, Duncan asked us to retrieve those treaties. They were gone because Morrigan's mother-"

"The chasind folk call me Flemeth." Flemeth says with an annoyed sigh.

"Flemeth retrieved them to fix the magical seal on them. Morrigan found us looking for the treaties and took us here," He motions to the hut, "to retrieve them before returning to camp for the Joining."

At the very mention of the Joining, Ana winces.

"Sorry." He frowns. A sudden realization suddenly sets in. "Wait-"

"Yes?" Flemeth asks as Alistair turns to her, his brows furrowed.

" _The_ Flemeth?" He asks, "From the legends?" Flemeth raises a brow and he shakes his head in disbelief. "Maker's breath… Daveth was right! You _are_ the Witch of the Wilds, aren't you?"

Ana's eyes widen as she looks at her as though for the first time. The older woman crosses her arms over her chest.

"And what does that mean?" She asks, her irritation evident in her voice. "I know some magic, and it has served you well, has it not?" She motions toward both Wardens. "Both of your injuries were severe yet here you are, alive enough to insult me."

"I-I didn't mean-"

Flemeth smirks. "I know well enough what you meant, lad."  
Ana glances about them, finding Morrigan suddenly vanished. "If we're in the Korcari Wilds, where are all the darkspawn?" She asks, more to herself than asking outright. She turns back to Flemeth. "Is that a power of yours then? To repel the darkspawn? Are we safe here?"

Alistair turns to look at Flemeth expectantly.

"Worry not, child." Her lips turn up into a coy smile. "You are safe...for now."

"What do you mean 'for now'?" Alistair asks.

Her golden eyes flick to the young Warden. "Old Flemeth may know a thing or two about hiding, lad, but your presence here will alert them to your presence eventually."

"But if you're the legendary Flemeth we heard about as children, you must be powerful and wise in your-" Ana pauses, earning a challenging look from the older woman, "mature age. Surely you know how the darkspawn think and how to get rid of them!"

"Must I?" Flemeth asks. "Power and age are relative, my dear; It depends on who is asking. Compared to _you_ , yes, on both accounts."

"So you can end the Blight?" Ana asks, hopefully.

"Not necessarily."  
"Why did you even save _us_ of all people?" Alistair inputs. "Why didn't you save Duncan? He is…" He winces. "Was our leader. If you can't stop this, you'd have a better chance with him."

Flemeth looks at him, her golden eyes gleaming with unknown knowledge as she studies him. "I am sorry for your Duncan, Alistair, but your grief must come later… in the dark shadows before you take your vengeance, as my mother once said. Duty must come now." Her eyes shift between his and Ana, her lips curling up into a knowing grin. "You may not see it now in your moment of grief but there is more here than what meets the eye."  
"What do you mean?" Alistair asks.

She shrugs. "Perhaps it's just the ramblings of an old woman." She cackles. Once she settles down she brushes aside the confused looks she receives. "It has always been the the Grey Wardens' duty to unite the lands against the Blight. Or has that changed when I wasn't looking?"

"No, but-" Ana starts to say only to trail off as Flemeth raises a brow at her.

"But we _were_ fighting the darkspawn! The King had almost defeated them until Loghain abandoned everyone!" He balls his fists at his sides. "Why would he do this?"

"Now _that_ is a good question." Flemeth nods, her lined face creasing with emotion. "Men's hearts hold shadows darker than any tainted creature."

Ana goes quiet, her eyes cast down to the snowy ground as she pulls the blanket tighter. Feeling Flemeth's gaze on her, she grows uneasy, as though she could read her thoughts. She waits for the old woman to comment about her reaction, but she turns back to Alistair.

"Perhaps he believes the Blight is an enemy he can outmaneuver." She muses. "Perhaps he does not see that the evil behind it is the true threat.

"The archdemon." Alistair nods.

"How are we supposed to deal with that?" Ana pipes up. "There's only two of us and I know nothing about killing archdemons! We're alone in this!" As she says this, the crushing realization hits her and she carefully sits down. "We're actually alone…" She mutters.

"We might be the only _Ferelden_ Grey Wardens left but I remember Duncan saying that Cailan had summoned the Wardens from Orlais for the battle. Perhaps…." He turns to Flemeth. "Perhaps they're on their way."

"Unless Loghain sent word for them not to come." Ana mutters miserably as she looks up at him from her seat. "You heard him when Cailan mentioned them. He was completely against them showing up at all. He hates the Grey Wardens." _And he's not the only one._ She thinks to herself.  
"Your fellow Warden is right." Flemeth says, retrieving the article of clothing she had been mending from the seat near Ana. She holds it out to him. "Even if he simply delayed them, there's no way they would be here in time."  
"So we're basically screwed." Ana mutters. "Maybe you should have left us to die in the tower."

Walking over to the seat beside her, Alistair sits. "Basically. No Grey Warden has ever defeated a blight without the army of half-dozen of nations at his back. Besides… I don't know how."

"How to kill the archdemon or how to raise an army?" Flemeth asks. "It seems to me that those are two entirely different questions, hmm?"

"Both." Alistair mutters as he hunches over, placing his face in his hands.

Flemeth watches them, each one hopeless and defeated. "Have the Wardens no allies these days?" She gently urges. When neither answers, her eyes narrow. "Alistair." She snips, making his head snap up. "You're the senior Warden out of the two of you, are you not?"

"I am." He says, his brows creasing.

"And you spent the most time with your Warden-Commander, correct?"

"Yes, but-"

She strides up to him, her golden gaze practically glowing as it meets his hazel one. "Then think. Think back to what he's said. Surely he's mentioned the allies of the Wardens."

Alistair thinks. "I...I don't know." He says. "Like I said, Duncan said that the Grey Wardens in Orlais had been summoned but we know they won't show up, on time or at all. And Arl Eamon would never stand for this, surely."

"Arl Eamon..." Ana asks, her mind straining to recall the name she had heard during her lessons. "The Arl of Redcliffe? Eamon Guerrin?"  
"Yes!" Alistair beams. "I'm assuming your family knows him?"

She shrugs. "I guess… I mean, I've met him maybe once or twice whenever he came to the castle to see my father or during events, but I don't _personally_ know him very well. Didn't he ride out in support of the king?"

Alistair shakes his head, a smile beginning to form. "No. A couple days before the battle, I overheard Duncan speaking with Cailan once and remember Duncan saying that Eamon was delayed. I didn't hear why but it was serious enough that Eamon wouldn't be setting out for quite a while. He should still have his men!"

"What if Loghain has already gotten to him?" Ana asks. "If I remember correctly. Eamon was Cailan's uncle on his mother's side and Loghain was friends with the late king and queen. Loghain could tell him anything he likes, and Eamon would believe it."

"No." Alistair says, shaking his head. "I know him. He's a good man and is respected at the Landsmeet. Since it's nearby, we can go to Redcliffe and appeal to him for help. I believe he'll listen to me!"

Ana scoffs. "Why would he listen to _you?_ Didn't you grow up a commoner?"

He rolls his eyes. "How I know him isn't important right now. Right now, we need help and Eamon could be our way of getting the truth out about Loghain's betrayal!"

"Such determination!" Flemeth chuckles. "How intriguing."

"And what if he doesn't agree to help us?" Ana asks. "What if he laughs us right out of his castle? Then what? We'll be right back where we started."

"He wouldn't do that!" Alistair exclaims.

"How do you know?" She shoots back. "We were very sure about a lot of things yet now look at us." She turns from him. "Andraste preserve me. Of all people to be stuck with…" She mutters.

"You're not exactly my first choice either." Alistair mutters, turning to face Flemeth once more. "I'll admit that Eamon is a bit of a long shot but, even if he agreed to help, I don't think his help would be enough…"

"Think of that all by yourself, did ya?" Ana sneers but he ignores her.  
"He can't defeat the darkspawn horde all by himself." He frowns.

"Wasn't there a purpose for Duncan sending you to retrieve those treaties?" Flemeth hints.

"Of course!" He exclaims, jumping up. "The treaties! Grey Wardens can demand aid from dwarves, elves, mages and other places! They're obligated to help us turning a Blight!"

"I may be old, but dwarves, elves, mages, this Arl Eamon, and who knows what else…. This sounds like an army to me."

"It does!" He says, grinning. He looks back at Ana and his smile suddenly falls. "Oh… oh no."

"Realizing how stupid all this sounds?" Ana offers.

He shoots her a glare. "No… I'm remembering that the treaties I retrieved for Duncan are still in his tent at Ostagar." He turns to Flemeth. "After giving them to him, he put them away in his chest for safe keeping."

"And?"

"And isn't Ostagar overrun with darkspawn right now?" He asks. He motions toward Ana. "Also she's never faced darkspawn before. She barely knows how to fight!"

"As I said before, the largest portion of the horde has since moved on." She shrugs. "You'll most likely come across a few stragglers but nothing you can't handle. After all, I believe that's the main part of being a Grey Warden - battling darkspawn."

"We also need a key to the chest." Ana points out. "Somehow I doubt Duncan was careless enough to leave it unlocked."

"There are other ways of getting around obstacles such as locks. Use your imagination, girl." She smirks. "So you are set then? Are you two ready to be Grey Wardens?"

"Yes, but…." Alistair begins, a blush rising up from his collar as she raises a brow. "Before we leave, I was hoping to get the rest of my things back? Morrigan said you were fixing them."

She throws her head back to laugh. "Of course. Can't fight the darkspawn without armor now can you?" She motions off to a small shed like structure attached to the side of the hut. "You may find your things in there."

As Alistair leaves to change, Flemeth turns her attention to Ana. For a long moment, she says nothing as she studies the younger woman avoiding her gaze. "Time heals all wounds." She simply says. "Time can heal and time can create wounds as well."  
Ana narrows her eyes at her. "What?"

Flemeth's lips curl up into a smirk. "Just a little advice, my dear. Don't dwell on the past but let it inspire you and help you grow." She pauses. "You both have a long journey ahead of you. Don't let the past keep you from an even brighter future."

Ana opens her mouth to speak but her mind goes blank as Flemeth turns away from her.

* * *

Alistair returns shortly after, dressed in his usual Grey Warden plate metal with his shield strapped to his back. Ana is lost in thought, thinking about what Flemeth said when she's pulled out of her trance by Alistair striding up to her. She looks up at him.  
"Here." He says, holding out her old cloak with both hands. "When I was digging out my things, I found some of yours as well."

She takes it from him and sets in in her lap with a muttered thanks. He waits as she opens her cloak to find her short sword and belt. Picking it up, she sees what drops into her lap and feels the tears begin to form.

"The strap broke and it took me a moment to find the pendant." He says as she touches the pendant of her mother's necklace along with the ring beside it. "I managed to fix it back. I wasn't sure if you wanted the ring on it. You can always take it off -" He rambles, his cheeks reddening.  
"Thank you, Alistair." She says, holding it close to her chest. "This necklace is the single most important thing to me. If we had left it behind…" She trails off, not even wanting to think about it. "Just… thank you."

He offers her a smile. "It was no problem."

Flemeth returns shortly with a pack which she hands to Alistair. "It'd be best for you both to get going soon but I figured that you could use some food to start yourselves off."

"Thank you, Flemeth." Alistair says, offering her a smile. "For everything."

"No, no." She says with a dismissive wave. "Thank _you_. You are the Grey Wardens here, not I."  
Ana stands up and hands the blanket back before putting on her cloak and sword belt just as Morrigan exits the little hut. Flemeth smiles. "Actually, before you go, there is one more thing I can offer you both."

"The stew is bubbling, Mother dear." Morrigan says. "Shall we have two guests this afternoon or none?"

"The Grey Wardens will be leaving shortly, girl." Flemeth says. "And you will be going with them."

"Such a shame-" Morrigan says mockingly toward the Wardens before realizing what her mother just said. Her head snaps in her direction. "What?"

"Yeah, what?" Alistair echoes.

Flemeth keeps her gaze trained on her daughter. "You heard me, girl. The last time I checked, you had ears." She laughs.  
"Have I no say in this?" Morrigan gapes.  
"Or us?" Alistair adds, which gets ignored.

"You have been itching to get out of the Wilds for years. Here is your chance." She says, turning the others. "As for you, Wardens, consider this repayment for your lives."

"Maybe we should have just let her leave us to die." Alistair mutters which Ana nods in agreement.

"Was this your idea all along?" Ana asks.

"Pardon me, " Flemeth says, taken aback. "I had the impression you two needed assistance, whatever the form."

Alistair grimaces as he looks over at Morrigan, his gaze going straight to the long, gnarled staff strapped to her back. "Not to look a gift horse in the mouth but…. Wouldn't this just add to our problems?" He asks. "Out of the Wilds, she's an _apostate_."

Flemeth snorts. "If you do not wish help from us _illegal_ mages, young man, perhaps I should have left you up on that tower."

Alistair clears his throat as he averts his gaze. "Point taken."

"Mother…" Morrigan says, lowering her voice even though both Wardens are clearly within earshot. "This is not how I wanted this…" She frowns. "I'm not even ready."  
Turning to her daughter, Flemeth tenderly touched Morrigan's cheek with a smile. "You must be ready. Alone, these two much unite Ferelden against the darkspawn."

 _No pressure._ Ana thinks to herself.

"They need you, Morrigan. Without you, they will surely fail, and all will perish under the Blight. Even I."

Morrigan looks torn. Bowing her head, she sighs. "I...understand."

Flemeth nods, turning back to the other two. "And you, Wardens, do you understand? I give you that which I value above all in this world. I do this because you _must_ succeed."

Both Wardens exchange a look and Ana steps forward. "We understand and appreciate the help."

With an exasperated sigh, Morrigan turns back to the hut. "Very well… Allow me to get my things, if you please."

She returns a moment later with her staff and a small pack slung across her slender body. She turns to face them. "I am at your disposal, Grey Wardens." She sighs. "I suggest a village north of the Wilds as our first destination. 'Tis not far and you will find much you need there. Or, if you prefer, I shall be your silent guide. The choice is yours."

"I agree that the village should be our first official destination but only after Ostagar."

Both Ana and Morrigan look at him like he's mad. "What?" Morrigan says for the both of them.

"We need to retrieve the treaties from Duncan's tent and…" He pauses, his face fallen. "I'd also like to find Duncan and others and put them to rest, properly. They deserve it."

"Then it seems like you're ready." Flemeth says. "You have your belongings, some food, a guide and now a plan."

Morrigan grimances. "Dear, sweet Mother, you are so kind to cast me out like this. How fondly I shall remember this moment."

Alistair sighs as he leans toward Ana. "I just… do you really want to take her along because her mother said so?" He asks.

She shrugs."We're not exactly rich with people wanting to help us right now, Alistair. " She points out. "We'll take what we get, like I'm doing with you."

He shoots her a look. "Insult aside, I guess you're right. The Grey Wardens have always taken allies where they could get them."

"I'm so pleased to have your approval!" Morrigan says sarcastically. Alistair's face reddens but he says nothing.  
Flemeth clasps her hands together. "Well then, off you go! Time is of the essence."

Both Wardens start off away from the hut as Morrigan lingers for a moment. Looking at her mother, she sighs. "Farewell then, mother. Do not forget the stew on the fire. I would hate to return to a burned-down hut."

"Bah! " Flemeth says with a dismissive wave. "'Tis very more likely you will return to find this entire area, along with my hut, swallowed up by the Blight."

Both Wardens stop and turn as Morrigan's usual cold demeanor falters. "I… all I meant was…"She starts to say. Feeling the others' gazes on her, she quickly clears her throat and straightens.

Flemeth gives her a half smile. "Yes, I know. Do try to have fun, Dear."

Both stand there stiffly for a moment until Morrigan gives an awkward wave before she quickly scurries off with the Wardens.


	59. The King's Secret

After leaving the treacherous Korcari Wilds, the two wardens and Morrigan begin to make their journey north toward Lothering. With heavy hearts, the trio silently enter the Tevinter ruins, unsure of the magnitude of carnage they were about to find.

Ana thought back to that moment when she had first arrived. As Duncan left to speak with the King about Howe's betrayal, she stood at the bridge, taking in the magnitude of ruins of Ostagar. At the time, everything seemed like some bizarre dream and the blight seemed like some made-up scenario that, any minute, she'd wake up in her bed chamber at Cousland Castle. She'd leave her room with her mabari at her side, roused from his slumber by the sound of his mistress padding around the room to get ready for the day. She could imagine walking to the dining hall and having her mother gently reprimand her for her usual tardiness before offering her a seat beside her. She envisioned seeing her father's concealed smirk as he bit into a piece of toast while Rendon Howe droned on about the day's events beside him; An annoyed grunt escaping from him as Bryce interrupted him to greet her with a cheerful, "Morning, Pup."

Now, they walked through the archway and the world suddenly seemed a dull grey that matched the dreary darkened skies which the pale sun did little to improve. Crows cawed overhead as they crossed the bridge, passing the occasional mutilated body amongst the streaks of dried blood.

After fighting the few darkspawn that had lingered after the battle, Alistair sheathed his weapon and combed the battlefield and surrounding areas for signs of his mentor's demise. Holding a gloved hand over his mouth, he walked past the bloated and festering bodies scattered everywhere, becoming increasingly desperate as he found none. Ana walked a little ways away from him, scanning the bodies for signs of Hawke, her heart falling with every passing second. The bodies and what was left of them made her sick to her stomach but she forced herself on. "Where is he?" She mutters to herself, just loud enough for Alistair to hear a few steps back.  
"Duncan?" Alistair asks.  
Her cheeks burn as she shakes her head. "No. Hawke."

"Perhaps he managed to survive?" Alistair said helpfully, his words muffled by his arm as he covered his nose to guard from the stench.

"Or his body is elsewhere." Ana says, grimly. Tears begin to well up in her eyes and she stealthily wipes them away with her sleeve as she turns away from the gory scene. "We should get going."

"Not yet."

She turns to gape at him, taken aback by his defiance. "Why not?" She motions around them. "Can't you see that nobody save us survived?"

Lowering his arm, he winces at the putrid stench surrounding them but raises his chin. "I want to find Duncan's..." He begins to say before he gets choked up with emotion. Averting his gaze, he clears his throat. "I want to give him a proper send-of. He deserves that much."

She watches him as he turns and begins to walk away before glancing around once more. Conflicting emotions surge through her as felt a wave of grief for all the men and women who fought and now laid at her feet. Many of these soldiers were lowborn like Alistair or even criminals; people below her in station and yet, as she stood here among their corpses, grief weighed her down. Alistair was quite some ways away now, his head bent as he checked the corpses he passed for the familiar face of his mentor. Disgusted and antsy, she jogs after him.

Striding alongside, she glances over at him. "I know you probably don't want to hear this," She begins, earning a questioning look from her brother-warden. "But perhaps, while we look for Duncan, we should pick up things we can sell for coin." His eyes narrow at her as he comes to a halt.

"These people were massacred because of Loghain's betrayal and you want to loot our former brothers and sisters in-arms and our camp?" He asks, incredulously. "Are you mad?"

She crosses her arms with a huff. "I'm trying to be practical here! I don't know if you've noticed but we're all on our own, Alistair. We're the last two surviving wardens in all of Ferelden and all we have left are some old treaties that we're expected to use to raise an army to fight the Blight! How do you expect to do that if we have no food, no proper equipment or no coin to get either of these things?"

Before he has a chance to argue, Morrigan appears from Maker knows where with a large pack strung across her scantily clad chest. "Quarreling again, I see." She says coolly, coming to stand beside them. Her golden gaze sweeps between them. "Are you two finished? I suggest you find your treaties so we can continue on our way. We still have quite a way to go before we get to Lothering."

"I want to find Duncan first. He deserves a proper burial after all he's done for the Wardens." Alistair's gaze travels down to the pack and he casts her a suspicious glance. "What's that?" He says, tensely.

Her darkly painted lips curl up into a smug grin. "While you two were busy arguing, I was gathering supplies for our journey."

"That's grave-robbing!" Alistair exclaims, his eyes widening. "Put it back!"

"I did not take them from any bodies." Morrigan scowls.

Her eyes narrow at him as Ana rolls her eyes. "Maker's breath, Alistair!" She exclaims, shooting him a glare. "They're gone! Nobody here is going to care if we take what we need. It's a matter of survival! I thought that of all people, you'd understand that!" She fumes.

"Why? Because I'm 'lowborn'?" He sneers, making air quotes. "I do understand survival but this…" He motions to the pack. "This is criminal! It's a matter of dignity and integrity! Being Fergus' sister, I figured you'd know something about that! Apparently, I was wrong."

"Leave my brother out of this." Ana growls, coming to stand toe-to-toe before him. "Do you really think that I _want_ to sell scrap for money like a commoner? I should be in a castle, dressed in fine clothes and eating fine meals while my parents-" She cuts off as tears threaten to fall. She looks away, bitterly. "My point is that I never wanted this life."

"Neither did I but, unfortunately, _this_ is our life now." He replies. "We may be down on our luck but it doesn't mean we need to resort to grave-robbing."

Shooting him a glare, she turns her gaze to Morrigan. "What were you able to find?"

"Basic necessities" She shrugs. "Some cookware and a few various items to sell, amongst other things." She casts a sideways glance at Alistair who crosses his arms across his chest. "Although, if we don't sell anything to make some coin for food or supplies, I'm afraid the cookware will be of little use."

"You can melt snow and make nestle tea." He mutters, glancing around. "That doesn't require looting the dead." With a dismissive wave of resignation, he turns on his heel and starts off in the direction of the collapsed Tower of Ishal. Exchanging an annoyed glance, both women follow.

* * *

Passing through what used to be the main encampment, Alistair's heart sinks. Like many of the other tents and structures, Duncan's tent was shredded;the furniture inside broken or gone. Pulling aside a couple shredded strands, Alistair enters what remains of his Warden-Commander's tent. The adjacent meeting area gone, torn away with little evidence of its existence save the old wooden war table which lies split in two. Among the old rushes, shattered glass and splintered wood cover the floor. Alistair touches the bed post of the now broken bed with shredded sheets. His hand remaining on the bedpost, he kneels as tears spring to his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Duncan." He mutters. "If only it had been me instead."

Through tear filled eyes, he glances around. It was only a week ago when his mentor was here, alive and reading over his reports and writing correspondences. From the corner of his eye, he spots something beneath a worn Grey Warden banner. He wipes his eyes and moves over to it, lifting the banner to reveal a large chest. His gauntleted hands run over the wood, the surface marked with deep scrapes and smeared with what looks like blood. Glancing downward, his eyes move to the lock which is also scraped up. Looking closer, these scratches are not from whatever creature scratched at the wood but look to be the work of a failed attempt at lockpicking. Anger surges through him. Could somebody have come looking for loot and attempted to find treasure within the Warden-Commander's personal chest? The idea only made him angrier. Luckily, a smear of blood on the chest and nearby canvas was a good indicator that the potential thief was unsuccessful in escaping.

With some effort, Alistair pulls the chest to the center of the room and kneels before it, examining it for signs of possible access. Near the right hand corner where the lid lifts, he notices a medium sized hole and turns the chest to look at it. His hand is too big so he looks around for something to hit it with. He unsheathes his sword and hits it a couple times with the pommel until the splintered wood gives way. Setting it aside, he pulls pieces away until he finds the stacks or papers, parts already mildewed from exposure. Pulling out the stack, his eyes move over the familiar handwriting.

As Alistair sifted through the documents, Ana had wandered off toward Cailan and Loghain's tents with Morrigan. Putrid bodies of servants slaughtered as they tried to flee laid near the edges of Cailan's tent. Ana covers her nose and mouth with her arm reflexively, trying not to gag. She moves to the adjacent room which is surprisingly intact save the shredded bedding and a particularly large, wicked looking axe embedded in the center of the mattress.

Morrigan strides over to the king's personal desk, sifting through the papers within. "Well, well…" She says, her darkly painted lips curly ng up into a smirk. "What have we here?"

Ana turns from the bed. "What?"

Slinking over, she hands Ana three papers. The young Warden eyes her curiously. "Read this." She says.

Taking the letters, Ana moves over to where there's more light. Her eyes scan the page:

 _To his Majesty, King Cailan of Ferelden:_

 _My Warden-Commander assures me that we face a Blight. This thing threatens us both, and we must work together to fight it, lest it devour all. Our two nations have not had a happy history, but that is all it is-history. It is the future that is at stake now. Let us put aside our fathers' disagreements so that we may secure the future for both our countries._

 _My Chevaliers stand ready and will accompany the Grey Wardens of Orlais to Ferelden. At your word the might of Orlais will march to reinforce the Ferelden forces._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Empress Celene I_

"This is just a letter from Empress Celene telling the king that she's ready to send her chevaliers with the Orlesian Grey Wardens." She shrugs. "We already knew about this." She prepares to put the papers down when Morrigan motions stops her.

"There's more." She urges her.  
Ana sets the first page aside. The second page was yet another letter in the same elegant handwriting yet this one looked as though it had been crumbled up then smoothed out and neatly folded. She reads the uncharacteristically familiar toned letter:

 _Dearest Cailan,_

 _The visit to Ferelden will be postponed indefinitely, due to the darkspawn problem. You understand, of course?_

 _The darkspawn have odd timing, don't they? Let us deal with them first. Once that is done, we can further discuss a permanent alliance between Orlais and Ferelden._

 _Yours,  
Celene_

Ana's eyes widen. "Cailan was having an affair with Empress Celene?" She gapes. She turns away from Morrigan and perches herself on the very edge of the bed. "She spoke of marriage but that couldn't happen unless…." Her eyes widen further. "Maker's breath! Was he going to divorce Anora for her?" She touches her lips thoughtfully. "The people wouldn't stand for it surely, wait…" She glances up at Morrigan, her encounter with the king replaying in her mind. "When I last spoke to the king one-on-one, he said something about being promised to somebody else!" She waves Morrigan's suspicious glance away dismissively. "I always thought he was referring to Anora but he must have been speaking of the Empress!" She rests the papers on her lap as she lets the information sink in. For a moment, Morrigan watches her with her golden eyes.

"If you think that is astonishing, you should read the next letter from his uncle. An Arl Eamon, I believe his name is?"

"Eamon?" Picking the papers back up, Ana glances once more at Celene's before setting it aside. She looks down and begins to read:

 _Your Majesty,_

 _My men will arrive as soon as possible to bolster your forces. Maker willing, this Blight will be ended before it has begun._

Ana winces. _If only it were that easy_.

 _Cailan, I beseech you, as your uncle, not to join the Grey Wardens on the Field. You cannot afford to take this risk. Ferelden cannot afford it. Let me remind you again that you do not have an heir. Your death-and it pains me even to think of it-would plunge Ferelden into chaos._

 _And yes, perhaps when this is over you will allow me to bring up the subject of your heir. While a son from both the Theirin and Mac Tir lines would unite Ferelden like no other, we must accept that perhaps this can never be. The queen approaches her thirtieth year and her ability to give you a child lessens with each passing month. I submit to you again that it might be time to put Anora aside. We parted harshly the last time I spoke of this, but it has been a full year since then and nothing has changed._

 _For your consideration, I've heard reports that the Teyrn of Highever's daughter, Analise Cousland, is still unmarried. It was your father's wish for you two to wed before he passed. I believe we should once more discuss the possibility of uniting the Cousland and Theirin lines since they are, after all, second in line to the crown as it is. The Cousland girl is a few years younger than Anora and I believe that she presents a chance of producing an heir for Ferelden!_

 _Please, nephew, consider my words, and Andraste's grace be with you._

 _Your Humble and Obedient Servant,_

 _Arl Eamon Guerrin_

The letter almost falls out of Ana's hands as she stares blankly at the hasty, yet precise script of Eamon's letter. She reads it over and over. ' _I believe we should once more discuss the possibility of uniting the Cousland and Theirin lines since they are, after all, second in line to the crown as it is. The Cousland girl is a few years younger than Anora and I believe that she presents a chance of producing an heir for Ferelden'._ Eamon - a man she's met maybe a handful of times and only spoke to once or twice suggested to their king that she should be his Queen and provide an heir for Ferelden!

"It seems this Eamon had big plans for you before your king's demise." Morrigan smirks.

"Apparently so." Ana says, trying to digest this information. It's a good thing she's already seated. "It's too bad that his judgement and timing were off. The last Theirin and my family are dead because of betrayals and I'm a Grey Warden. The future he envisioned is dead in the water."

As she says this, she hears Alistair call for her from somewhere nearby. With a sigh, she rises from her perch and tosses the letter on the bed. If a Cousland and Theirin were supposed to unite and save Ferelden, it seems fate had different plans.

Exiting Cailan's tent, Ana finds Alistair looking warily in a nearby building. Seeing her, he jogs over. "I got the treaties." He says, giving his pack a pat.

"Good." She says, Eamon's letter still at the forefront of her mind. Noticing her pensive expression, he raises a brow.

"Are you all right?" He asks. "Where did you go?"

She looks up at him, meeting his gaze. "Morrigan and I were in Loghain and Cailan's tents."

Alistair's gaze darkens. "Does your depravity have no ends? Our King is _dead._ "

Snapping out of her trance, Ana glares at him. "We weren't in there to loot. Seeing the destruction of Duncan's tent, we figured we'd see their quarters got the same treatment." She points behind her at the tents. "Do you really think I wanted to see the decaying bodies in there? No."

He glances warily at the tents. "Bodies? Is…. Cailan in there?"

"No. Just servants."

"Maker's breath." Alistair mutters as he makes the sign of the Maker. "Those poor, innocent people…cut down for nothing more than serving their Lord."

Ana nods. "It's unfortunate how many people were taken away due to Loghain's treachery."

Alistair nods, holding back the tears that threatened to fall. "Let's go find Duncan so we can get out of here."

As they begin to walk toward the bridge leading out to the Tower of Ishal, Alistair mutters something under his breath before breaking into a run.

"Alistair, wait-" Ana calls out to him before she sees the reason for the upset. She and Morrigan start running, carefully watching for the large chunks of stone gone from the massive bridge. Debris and half ravished bodies pepper the surface as they jump or run around before slowing to a stop at the center where a large construct sits, made from various debris. Both Wardens look up at their king, his half bloated, bloodied body hanging from where he's strung up. His armor had been removed, leaving him in just his ill-fitted and stained small clothes.

Ana turns away while Alistair gaze sweeps over the scene. "We have to get him down."

Ana's eyes widen as they fill with tears. " mad?"

Without looking at her, he steps closer to Cailan's body. "We can't leave him like this. He was our _king._ " Climbing up onto the construct, he reaches for the binding on one of his wrists. "Come, help me."

"Alistair-" Ana begins to argue but stops as Alistair turns on her.

"No. We can't leave him like this!" He exclaims, motioning to Cailan's body. "Now, help me!"

Tentatively, she nods and steps up on the construct, trying not to gag at the king's stench. She winces as she fusses with the bindings on his enlarged forearm and wrist, squealing once it comes loose. At that exact same moment, Alistair releases his side and the king topples over onto Alistair as Ana dips out of the way. Cailan's legs are still bound as Alistair calls out for Ana's help as Ana breaks down off to the side, averting her gaze as the smell and feel of their former king occupies her thoughts.

With an annoyed sigh, Morrigan raises her staff and watches as Cailan's body lifts enough for Alistair- who is covered in some unknown green goo- to remove himself to work on the binds on the king's legs. Once free, the body falls and slides down the construct as Alistair looks on, horrified.

With the help of Morrigan, they manage to get the body to the other side of the bridge where Alistair builds a makeshift pyre. Lighting a fallen torch from nearby, he lights the pyre and steps back as the king's body is slowly engulfed in flames. Kneeling before the fire, he bows his head. _"The Light shall lead her safely through the paths of this world, and into the next."_ He mutters. Coming to kneel beside her brother-warden, Ana makes the sign of the Maker and bows her head. _"For she who trusts in the Maker, fire is her water. As the moth sees light and goes toward flame, she should see fire and go towards Light."_ She continues. _"The Veil holds no uncertainty for her, and she will know no fear of death, for the Maker shall be her beacon and her shield, her foundation and her sword."_

After the words have been spoken, both Wardens remain kneels for a long moment in silence until Morrigan clears her throat impatiently behind them. They rise.

"We should go try to find Duncan." Alistair states solemnly. "Our best bet is to check the valley up ahead.


	60. The Missing Mentor

They cross the huge clearing, partially surrounded by burnt and collapsed palisade walls. More mutilated bodies are scattered around the area amongst dead darkspawn. The snow is so saturated with blood from both sides that it's hard to imagine that it used to be pure white at one point. As they look around them at the carnage, Ana almost walks into Alistair as he comes to a sudden stop.

"Hey!" She begins to protest before she sees the reason for Alistair's pause. Among the bodies strewn everywhere lies a giant ogre, flies buzzing around its torn flesh which still has two blades sticking out of it. "Is that…?" She begins to say before trailing off. Alistair nods, attempting to swallow the lump that had formed at the back of his throat.

"That's it." He says, his voice thick with emotion. "That's the creature that killed our king and Duncan."

Ana stands there, gaping at the creature as her brother-warden reluctantly edges forward. Her eyes widen as she hisses his name. The creature is clearly dead and has been for some time, but the darkspawn they had first encountered when they entered the ruins was a genlock necromancer— which wore an eerily similar yet tarnished version of Cailan's golden armor— who had the frightening ability to make the dead rise once more to fight. After it had risen some slain darkspawn to fight, it had escaped and had yet to be seen again. With their luck, it could be hiding nearby in wait to spring out and raise some of their own fallen soldiers or other darkspawn to fight them off.

She glances around nervously while Alistair approaches the creature, his eyes falling on the familiar silverite sword and dagger embedded deep within the creature's chest. Using its massive arm, he climbs on top the creature and, as he attempts to dislodge his mentor's blades, a blood curdling screech comes from off in the distance. All three eyes shift towards the sound as they see the creepy grin of the necromancer from earlier. It raises its crude staff and a dark purple mist rises from the ground. The mist thickens to a fog, forming a barrier between the two wardens and Morrigan.

"Alistair!" Ana cries as her brother-warden disappears from her view. Her heart quickens as she hears the eerie groans from around her. She looks around helplessly looking around even though she sees nothing but darkness. The moment she unsheathes her sword, she feels something bone-like grab her boot. She swings wildly in the darkness, hoping it's not either of her companions trying to crawl their way back to her. At one point, she swings and feels her blade sink into what can only be flesh before she pulls it free. Her sword hand shakes as she spins around, unsure where the next thing will come from when she sees a faint ethereal-looking blue light barely peeking through the thick fog.

Again, she calls out for her companions and frantically cuts down things as they draw close enough to see their outline from the light. The fog slowly begins to dissipate and Ana is able to make out the undead soldiers drawing closer. Using the techniques Alistair showed her during their training exercises, she hacks and slashes at the corpses coming at her until there's a small pile of bodies collected around her feet.

Taking advantage of the small break from combat, Ana glances around in time to see a dark purple orb shoot out from the tip of the necromancer's staff and hit the fallen ogre just as Morrigan freezes it, it's staff still raised in the air. A low grumble emerges from the ogre and Ana notices Alistair still sitting atop it. Both wardens' eyes widen as the creature slowly begins to rise to its feet with Alistair dangling from the weapons inside it, holding on for dear life. The ogre checks its surroundings, seemingly oblivious to the warden helplessly dangling from its broad chest. Catching sight of Ana, it lets out a ferocious screech and runs at her, plucking her from where she stood within a matter of seconds.

Similar to what it did to Cailan, the creature shakes her violently making her head whip back and forth. Before it can make the killing blow that it had previously used to kill the king, its momentum is halted as Alistair frees the dagger from its chest and plunges it deep within its eye socket. It lets out a shriek and swings Ana around wildly before it releases her, sending her flying halfway across the clearing. Slamming back first into the large, gnarled trunk of a tree at the edge of the field, her head whips back and strikes the unforgiving wood before falling on top of a couple mangled corpses.

Dizzy and breathless, her vision blurs as she clings to the mass beneath her in an attempt to get her bearings. Meanwhile, Alistair is bucked around wildly as the ogre tosses its head and flails around in an attempt to throw the pest attached to him. The dagger dislodges and he falls back onto the bloodied snow, dodging the creature's enormous feet as it stomps around in pain.

Taking advantage as it turns away from him, Alistair scrambles to his feet and unsheathes his sword. With dagger and sword in hand, he lets out a battle cry and runs at the creature, lunging with the blades pointed outward. They sink deep within the heavy muscle and tissue of its upper back and it roars in pain as Alistair's weigh pulls them down, blood spraying as its innards are exposed. The ogre bucks and turns, reaching for Alistair in vain before his grip slips and he falls back onto the ground. Watching it stagger around, he crawls back over the fallen bodies just as it swivels and falls face-first to the ground, blackish blood oozing out of its wounds and sinking into the snow. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he falls back onto a half-frozen corpse of another darkspawn. Turning his head, he notices what he's lying on and quickly distances himself from it.

For a moment, everything is silent before a screech rings through the clearing making Alistair's head snap in its direction. Immobilized by Morrigan, the necromancer stands perfectly still as flames lick at its flesh, sending a revolting burning smell through the air before finally collapsing to the ground with a metallic clang.

Covering his nose and mouth with his arm, Alistair returns to his feet and walks over to the ogre and pulls out his sword from the creature's back. He wipes the blade on his boot and returns it to its scabbard before retrieving Duncan's dagger. As he used the bottom of his tabard to clean it, he placed it on his belt before looking at the creature once more. He pushes against its side, grunting with the effort. Morrigan shoots him an amused glance before she raises a hand and casually flicks it to the side.

Without warning, Alistair falls backward as the creature jerks upwards onto its side before slumping back down facing upwards. She cackles evilly from where she stands as he scrambles back to his feet. "A warning would have been nice." He mutters with a grimace, brushing off the guts and blood he fell into as a blush crept up to his cheeks.

Climbing on top of the creature once more, he casts a cursory glance around before working on freeing the sword from its chest. Once he pulls it free, he stands atop the creature and cleans the sword before hopping down. His gaze travels around the area, his mouth set in a determined line while he searches for his mentor's body. "That makes no sense…" He mutters with a frown. "This is where he…"

His gaze lands on a still Ana, draped over a few corpses off in the distance. "Ana." He breathes, sprinting over to her. "Ana!" He calls. Skidding to a stop, he sets Duncan's sword down and drops down beside her. "Ana…" He says again, tentatively shaking her shoulders. With no response, his heart begins to race and he takes out Duncan's dagger. "No, no, no...Ana please…." He pleads under his breath. Leaning over her, he angles the blade and feels relief as he sees that she's still breathing. Setting the dagger beside Duncan's sword, he shakes her again, once more saying her name.

Regaining consciousness, her head begins to throb as she opens her eyes before shutting them once more, instantly regretting it. A groan escapes from her and she becomes increasingly aware of somebody saying her name.

"Stop shaking me." She mutters.  
A relieved smile forms on Alistair's face. "Oh thank the Maker, you're alive!"

"Alistair?" She croaks, not opening her eyes.

"I'm here." She hears him say softly. "Are you all right?"

She doesn't speak for a moment and he says her name once more. "Hm?"

"Are you all right?" He asks again, the worry evident in his voice. "Can you move?"

Carefully, she starts to move, wincing as she feels a sharp pain in the back of her skull and along her spine.

"Easy now." Alistair says, gently. "Take your time."

"We should probably get going before any more dead rise." Morrigan comments from off to the side, nonchalantly examining her darkly painted nails. Alistair glares at her but she doesn't notice. He turns his attention to Ana, his expression softening as he lowers his voice.

"Ana, I was so worried—" He begins.

Seeing the blood and guts on her and what she's lying on, a wave of nausea hits her and she turns away from Alistair and retches into the snow.

Grimacing, he looks away as Morrigan makes a disgusted noise. Once she seems finished, her arms she's leaning on buckles slightly and she feels Alistair grab her to stabilize her. "Come on. Let's get you up."

He helps her to her feet and she pulls away, clinging to the tree and leans her head against the cold trunk, closing her eyes. After checking that she's alright for the moment he picks up the sword and dagger from the snow once more and places the dagger in his belt and unsheathes his sword and replaces it with Duncan's.

"Those are your mentor's weapons, are they not?" Morrigan asks coolly.

"They are." Alistair mutters. "What of it?"

Her darkly painted lips turn upwards into a smirk. "Then I believe by taking them, you are, in your words, grave-robbing."

He shoots her a glare but says nothing as he walks past her towards the slain creature. "This is for you, Duncan." He whispers, shoving the blade into the ground beside the creature. Dropping down onto one knee, he kneels before it and bows his head to say a brief prayer to the Maker for Duncan. Once he rises, he wipes the tears that had begun to form and takes a deep breath before turning on his heel. Returning to Ana, who hasn't moved since he left her, he leans close to the tree. "Ana?"

"Hm?" She mutters, not opening her eyes.

"How are you feeling?" He asks, stepping forward in case she falls over.

"Terrible." She mutters.

"Can you at least walk?"

She says nothing for a moment before nodding. "I think so."

Putting her arm around his neck, he helps her away from the trees and pile of corpses before her legs give out once more. He helps her up once more before she collapses once more.

"Perhaps we should just leave her?" Morrigan offers, jokingly. Her grin falls as Alistair glares at her before he kneels and picks Ana up in his arms.

"I can…walk." Ana weakly protests.

"Somehow I doubt that since you can barely stand." Alistair retorts. He glances at Morrigan. "Seems we'll have to gather what we can and make camp sooner than expected tonight." He looks down at Ana who has passed out once more. "She needs to get some rest. Hopefully she'll be feeling better tomorrow. She hit her head pretty hard."

"There's a clearing not far from here that will suffice." Morrigan says, turning and beginning to walk back through the ruins.

"What about tents?" Alistair calls to her as he tries to catch up.

"I already have what we need for tonight." She says with a dismissive wave.

By nightfall, they had made camp about a mile and a half away from Ostagar. Ana floated in and out of consciousness while Alistair set up the tent that Morrigan had taken from camp and had, somehow, stored it amongst other things. When asked about it, she simply smirked and told him it was none of his concern. Flemeth has graciously provided them with some lumpy bedrolls which Alistair set Ana on while Morrigan set off to gather firewood. With the witch's absence, he sat in the tent beside his sister-warden ensuring to check every so often if she was still breathing.

At one point, after leaning down close enough to hear her light breathing, he took a moment to really look at her. He moved a piece of dark brown hair from her face and took in her noble high cheekbones, full lips and solemn expression. His gaze swept over her face, taking in the scrapes and slight bruising that had begun to form from her encounter with the ogre. A frown tugs at the corners of his mouth as his eyes slip down toward her split lower lip. She's been so much recently. _If I could kiss away the hurt, I would._ Their shared kiss in the Warden dormitory tent resurfaces in his mind. As soon as he thought it, his eyes widen as he's reminded of the countless lectures he endured on such manners in the Chantry. Cheek reddening, he quickly pulls away with a muttered apology.

A groan emits from his fellow warden and his head snaps in her direction. "Ana?" He says softly, leaning down once more to hear a whispered reply. As he waits for a response, he jumps as the flaps of the tent open and a dark-haired head pops in.

"Again! A warning would be nice!" He hisses.

Looking between them, she raises a perfectly sculpted brow. "Have I interrupted something?" She asks, a smug grin spreading around her face as his blushing deepens.

"No! She groaned and I was listening for a response." He says quickly, averting his gaze. He shakes his head in an attempt to shed the thoughts from earlier. "What do you want?"

She casts a quick glance at Ana's still form before thrusting a couple of rabbits onto his lap. "The fire is ready." She says coolly before ducking back out of the tent. "You may cook tonight."

Casting a final glance at Ana, he lets out an annoyed sigh and exits the tent. "You know, you could be a bit more—" He starts to complain only to find her nowhere in sight. His brows furrow as he looks around in confusion. Muttering a curse under his breath, he shakes his head and sits down, getting started on the rabbits.

It wasn't until the rabbits had been skinned, gutted and cooked before Morrigan finally saunters back into camp. Alistair looks across the flames at her, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Where did you suddenly disappear off to?"

Tearing off a haunch from one of the rabbits lying in the pan she says nothing.

"Hello?"

Taking a bite of her food, her golden eyes shift up to look at him, the fire making them glow even more than normal. "That's none of your concern."

"You say that about everything." He growls, lifting his food up to his mouth. "Have you ever thought—"

"Do you two ever shut up?"

Both turn to look as Ana, pale and looking as though she's about to pass out, slowly walks toward them. Setting his tin plate aside, he jumps to his feet to help her, but she slaps his hands away. "Don't touch me." She sneers.

Withdrawing his hands, he frowns. "I didn't expect you to wake up so soon."

"Hard not to when you two are bickering back and forth." Ana mutters, wincing as she lowers herself to the cold ground. Alistair offers her some rabbit which she waves away, still tasting the bile that came up earlier in her mouth. "Do we have anything to drink?" She asks, looking around.

"Are you going to retch again?" Morrigan mocks her with a grimace.

Ana shoots her a glare as Alistair hands her his water pouch. "Actually, I was thinking about doing that on you once you go to sleep." Morrigan wrinkles her nose and Ana smirks before she wiping the spout of the pouch and taking a long swig.

"How are you feeling?" Alistair asks her, reaching for the pouch as she hands it back. His hand touches hers and she instantly retracts it.

"My head still feels like I took a warhammer to the head, my entire back hurts and I constantly feel like I'm going to throw up." Ana frowns. "Other than that, I feel fantastic."

Alistair snorts as he turns to Morrigan. "As a mage, you can heal her, right?"

She raises a brow. "For somebody who used to be a templar, you really don't know anything about mages, do you?"

Feeling both women's gazes on him, he averts his gaze. "I wasn't a templar." He mutters. "I never took my vows." He lets out a frustrated sigh. "That doesn't matter. Can you or can't you?"

"Not all mages can heal." Morrigan retorts. "I am one such mage who never learned that school of magic." Her golden gaze flicks over to Ana. "I can, however, mix various potions, tonics, salves and various other things." She smirks. "Growing up in the wilds has its advantages."

"Can you make something for my head and/or back?" Ana asks, anxious to rid herself of the pain. "I would greatly appreciate it."

Seeing that the tables of power have shifted, Morrigan gives a nonchalant shrug as she rises to her feet. "Perhaps. If you have the right ingredients."

"We'll find whatever you need." With some difficulty, she also rises so that she can look Morrigan in the eyes. "Just please…make this go away."

"We'll see."


	61. Alone

\Later that night, Ana stands in the tent, muttering curses under her breath as she attempts to take off her armor to sleep when Alistair enters the tent from behind her.

"Need some help?" He asks, coolly. He was surprised by how steady his voice came out regardless of the nervousness coursing through him. He had never slept alone with a woman before. Not that anything would happen due to her usual haughty attitude toward him and his lack inexperience with women in general. His thoughts from earlier about her lips resurfaced making his cheeks redden and he thanked the Maker that she was turned away from him.

"No. I got it." Ana mutters, continuing to try and fail at lifting her chainmail off before letting out a small whimper of helplessness.

Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he steps forward. "Here." He says, softly, grabbing the chainmail. He noticed her tense up and slowly lifts it off, making sure to only touch the chainmail. As he does so, the tunic and thin nightshirt beneath it lifts slightly to reveal the large black and blue bruises covering her back. Taken aback, he almost drops it but is able to keep a hold on it before laying it on the ground beside her bedroll.

She quickly pulls her shirt back down and turns away with a muttered thanks as she lowers herself down on her bedroll. Turning to say goodnight to him, she sees Alistair beginning to remove his plate armor. "What are you doing?" She asks, her eyes widening.

He pauses. "I'm getting ready for bed."

"In here?" She asks, incredulously. "Shouldn't you keep it where you sleep?"

His brows draw together in confusion. "I don't understand…"

Lifting her chin, she scowls at him. "You're not sleeping in here."

"Why not?"

She looks at him as though he's touched in the head. "Seriously? Because it's improper for a lady -" She begins to say as Alistair rolls his eyes. "Stop that."

"I don't see the problem! Why can't I sleep in here?" He says, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks down at her. "We slept in the same tent at Ostagar."

She purses her lips. "That was different, It wasn't just you and I. We were with the other wardens in case you tried anything."

Nervousness aside, he snorts. "Don't flatter yourself, sweetheart."

Her eyes flare. "Excuse you? What's that supposed to mean?"

Her turns away from her and continues to remove his armor which only angers her more. With a huff, she glances around her for something to throw and sees her sword belt lying off to the side, picking it up, scabbard and all, she throws it at him, the hilt hitting him on his side and falling to the ground. "Answer me!"

"Ow!" He looks down at the sword then glances up at her. "What?"

She points towards the flaps of the tent, her nostrils flaring angrily. "Leave." She hisses.

Turning to face her, he crosses his arms over his chest defiantly. "Are you mad? It's freezing out there! I'm staying here." Laying the gauntlet in his hand next to his bedroll, he grimaces. "This is what I get for carrying you a mile and a half? Maybe I should have left you at Ostagar." He mutters, not expecting for her to hear him. When he looks up, he sees the hurt look that she tries to hide. His expression softens as he lets out a sigh. "I'm sorry." He frowns. "I didn't mean that."

Averting her gaze, she turns away from him as a rogue tear slips down her cheek. "Fine. One night but you must sleep on the far other side." She says, gruffly as she tries to keep the emotion out of her voice. "After tonight, we find you another tent. Understand?"

He nods, even though she can't see it. "Understood. Goodnight, Ana."

* * *

Alistair tosses in his sleep, hearing murmurs and hushed voices. It takes him a few moments until he realizes that the sounds are coming from nearby. Opening his eyes, it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness before he sees the sloping ceiling of the canvas above. As quietly as he can, he pulls himself up into an upright position and looks around, silently praying that it's not darkspawn, or worse, Morrigan.

He sits still listening for the low hum that sounds in his mind whenever the darkspawn are near. What he hears is not the humming but sobbing. Frowning, he waits and listens until he hears a sniffle coming from Ana's still form at the other side of the tent. "Ana?" He whispers into the darkness.

Hearing her name, she pauses. She feels the heat rise to her cheeks as she quickly tries to wipe the tears that have been spilling down her cheeks for the past hour. "What?" She snaps. "If you're going to try something…"

Alistair stays where he is. "Are you alright?" He gently asks. "I heard you sniffling."

"Of course, I'm sniffling." She snaps. "It's freezing in here! This bedroll is lumpy and smells musty…" Feeling the tears beginning to rise once more, she stops, closing her eyes as a rogue tear breaks free. From the other side of the tent, she hears the sound of metal clanking together as Alistair moves his armor pieces aside and scooches a bit closer. She feels his presence close by and moves closer to the canvas.

"Ana." He says once more. "Please turn to look at me."

"Why?" She asks. "I'm fine."

"Please?"

For a moment, she lies perfectly still before she carefully sits up and turns to face him, wincing as her back protests. She sees the outline of his hair before her eyes adjust and she sees his face as he watches her. She hated how he was looking at her as though she was some pathetic urchin on the street. "What?" She asks, clenching her jaw in an attempt to keep the tears at bay.

"I'm sorry about what I said earlier. I didn't mean to hurt you..."

She rolls her eyes. "Don't be stupid. I wasn't crying over you."

"Oh good. Here I was hoping you weren't getting too attached to me. I've been told how incredibly addictive I can be."

Her brows draw together for a moment before she gets that he's joking. The joke is so stupid yet she finds herself cracking a small smile. "Don't flatter yourself." She scoffs, repeating his words from earlier.

"There it is." He grins. "That's the smile I was hoping for."

Feeling a flicker of affection towards him, she quickly looks down at the ground. It's a good thing it's dark , she thinks to herself as she feels the heat rise to her cheeks. Recalling their kiss, she bites her lip before shaking her head to clear the thoughts away.

Alistair's grin falters as she looks away. Taking a chance, he tentatively reaches out to touch her boot. "Hey."

She looks down at his hand then back up at him.

"If you weren't crying about what I said, what were you crying about?" He asks, taking his hand off her boot but letting it linger close by. "I know you've been through a lot these past couple months but, you can tell me. I'll understand…" He gives her a sheepish grin. "Or at least I'll try to."

As she looks at him, she's about to push his hand away from her and tell him to go to bed yet something deep down wanted to talk about everything. She shrugs. "After revisiting Ostagar, it just all hit me." Feeling suddenly self-conscious, she looks down. "It wasn't until I saw the bodies that I realized that…" She pauses as a rogue tear breaks free and slides down her cheek yet makes no effort to wipe it away. "I'm alone and have nothing." Grasping the edge of her tunic in her hands, she gives it a squeeze. "Everything is gone. My parents were killed, Rory is dead, I lost my child, I have no idea what has become of Fergus, Much or Hawke, my home was taken by a usurper along with my titles and lands and now…" Tears spill freely down her cheeks as she sniffs. "The Wardens and everything else is gone too! I'm completely alone in this world."

Without thinking, Alistair rises up onto his knees and instantly pulls her into an embrace, adjusting his arms so that he's not pressing on her bruised back. Realizing what he's doing, he's about to release her and apologize when he feels her wrap her arms around his shoulders and buries her face in his shoulder. He holds her, staying as still as he can as she sobs into his shoulder, wetting the thin fabric before he risking reaching up to stroke the back of her hair. As he does this, her sobs become quieter and he slowly feels her begin to relax. "It's okay." He whispers into her hair, silently wondering to himself about what she meant when she spoke of her child. "You're not alone. I'm right here."

They stay there, locked in an embrace for quite a long time before Ana finally pulls away, embarrassed at having such a vulnerable moment. She takes in a shaky breath, not looking at him. "We should...um." She begins to say, unsure of what can be said after such an intimate moment.

"Right!" He quickly nods. "Big day of travelling tomorrow. Need to get some rest."

"Uh...yeah."

Alistair returns to his side of the tent, his heart racing as he lies back down. "Well… goodnight."

Ana lies back down on her side and pulled her blanket around her, confused at the mix of emotions coursing through her. "Goodnight..." She pauses a moment. "Alistair?"

"Hm?"

There's another short pause and he opens his mouth to ask her what she needs when she speaks. "Thank you."

A smile creeps up to his face. "Anytime."


	62. The Deserters

The next morning, as Ana rested at the camp, Alistair began packing up while Morrigan was off doing Maker knows what. Wrapped in her cloak, Ana watches him. "I suppose I should thank you."

"For?" He asks, not turning around.

Her cheeks burn. "You said last night that you carried me for a mile and a half after while I was passed out. I imagine that wasn't easy so…thanks."  
Alistair smiles knowing she doesn't see it. "Don't mention it.. I promised Duncan I would look after you and I am a man of my word." Setting the bedroll he just rolled up aside, he straightens with a sigh.

"So, I take it we're heading to Lothering now." Ana asks. The ache in her head was still prominent as she struggled to recall where she had heard about the place.

"Yes." He replies, not looking away from his task. "It'll take a few days but perhaps we can appeal to the chantry for food and shelter while we come up with a plan."

Ana's brows draw together. "I thought we had a plan? You said you wanted us to go to Redcliffe and speak with Arl Eamon."

He pauses, leaning back on his heels with a sigh. "It was only a suggestion since we'll need to go through Redcliffe already to speak with the mages."

At that moment, Morrigan chooses to return. "Have you two finished?" She asks, her annoyance evident. "I have scouted the road ahead and it seems safe enough."

Alistair turns to her. "The Imperial Highway seems like our best option. It's often patrolled and there's a good chance we'll be able to trade with any caravans we pass along the way."

Morrigan's brow raises. "And what do you suggest we trade? You have already deemed all goods we have taken as "stolen goods"."

Alistair's cheeks redden. "I refuse to sell any items that may have belonged to anybody personally like jewelry or clothing. Everyday items that fetch a price will be fine."

Morrigan folds her arms over her chest with an amused expression. "And exactly how much do you expect to get for these 'everyday items'? If they are normal items they would have no additional value, correct?"

Shouldering his pack, he shoots her a glare. "Let's just get going."

* * *

 **Denerim**

A curious buzz amassed in the throne room as Anora stood on the balcony in front of the two throne behind her. With the arrival of her father came the news of her husband's demise.

Cailan was a fool, there's no denying that. With his constant seeking for glory putting him in harm's way, whether it be with a stubborn stag or a noblewoman's angry husband, she knew that it would eventually lead to his downfall. Yet, even with his reckless attitude toward ruling his country, she felt the pull of grief. Their marriage was hardly an easy one yet despite their constant arguments and disagreements, she was going to miss him. Much like his father, he was always the charmer when they were growing up and always knew what to say when she was in a bad mood to make her crack a smile or laugh.

"...and I expect each of you to supply these men. We must rebuild what was lost at Ostagar, and quickly."

Pulled from her thoughts, her gaze falls on her father as he addresses the gathered nobles. Despite her objections to allowing him to be the one to break the news to the council, she relented when she knew that he wouldn't listen to her no matter what.

"There are those who would take advantage of our weakened state if we let them. We must defeat this darkspawn incursion, but we must do so sensibly and without hesitation."

As he says this, the mood of the crowd seemed to change as whispers rippled outwards.  
"Your lordship, if I might speak?"

All eyes turn to look as Cailan's uncle, Bann Teagan steps forward.

"Go on." Loghain gruffly replies.

"You have named yourself Queen Anora's regent, and claim we must unite under your banner for our own good…"

Loghain nods. "That's right."

"But what of the army lost at Ostagar? Your withdrawal was most...fortuitous."

Anora keeps a straight face but feels panic arising inside as accusatory and dismayed whispers emerge from the crowd. Loghain sneers down at the Bann.

"Everything I have done has been to secure Ferelden's independence." The old General says, raising his chin. "I have not shirked my duty to the throne, and neither will any of you!"

"Traitor!" A man calls from the far back, making him grimace.

"The bannorn will not bow to you simply because you demand it!" Teagan asserts. "You of all people should know that in Ferelden, we no not bow to those who demand it but to those who earn it." More insulting shouts as Loghain sneers.

"Understand this: I will brook no threat to this nation… from you or anyone!" As he says this, Loghain motions to his entourage and they stomp away in a huff, leaving ANora to face the outcries and shouts of the nobles. She quickly steps up to the railing and holds her hands up.

"Now, now! Settle down!" She says. Teagan sneers at Loghain's sudden exit and begins to walk away himself when Anora stops him. "Bann Teagan, please"

He stops and turns to face her. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but your father risks civil war. If Eamon were here…" He begins, only to stop as he winces.

"Bann Teagan, my father is doing what is best."

"For whom? Himself or Ferelden?" Teagan shoots back. "Did he do what was best for your husband, your Majesty?"

Anora opens her mouth to respond but nothing comes out. Teagan snorts.

"Exactly." With a motion, he and a fair amount of his other nobles start toward the exit. Anora watches them, frowning.

* * *

 **Lothering**

After a little less than a week of traveling, Ana and Alistair draw nearer to the town of Lothering. Tired and on edge, they walk a few feet away from one another in silence. As she walks along the worn yet sturdy raised highway that cuts through the Ferelden countryside, Ana looks out at the small farms spreading out from the town, most likely unaware of the dangers rising like a wave around them. Did they know that their king was dead? Of Loghain's betrayal? Somehow she doubted it. Alistair calls to her and she ignores him, continuing on.

Rolling his eyes, he jogs up to her and touches her arm which she immediately pulls away with a glare. "What?" She hisses, coming to a stop in order to face him.

He motions with his chin to the small, yet intimidating group of men lounging around, surrounded by half broken crates, bedrolls and a chest or two. Two caravan wagons sit end to end, blocking the path leading away from the town. One of the men says something earning laughs from their companions. "We've got company."

Ana turns to looks before shrugging. "Caravans? So what?" She moves to continue and he touches her arm to stop her. "Stop. Don't touch me."

"Those are not caravans." He hisses. "Look at the emblem on their armor."

Squinting, she notices the crimson mabaris of House Theirin on one of the men's' surcoats and her brows furrow. "They're from the King's army."

Gaining notice of their approaching guests, the men motion toward each other and they slowly rise and turn to face them.

"They've got to be deserters." Alistair says quietly. "Their uniforms are far too new to have fought at Ostagar." He places his hand on his sword, preparing for the worst. "Get behind me."

Fear courses through her as she does as she's told. With Alistair ahead of her, they slowly make their way over to the men. A slight breeze picks up and Ana catches the scent of decay, a smell that was all too familiar from their time at Ostagar. She looks around until she notices the body of a Templar leaning against the railing of the highway nearby.

"Wake up, gentlemen." A man in House Theirin armor calls to his companions as they approach. He grins at them. "More travelers to attend to." Immediately, his eyes seek out Ana with a lustful gaze before moving to Alistair. "You! You must be the leader."

Alistair puts his arm out protectively as Ana turns to find Morrigan standing beside her. The group of men behind the main one leer as they look over the two women with the exception of a stocky one off to the side. His gaze moves over their blue and grey armor. He nudges his leader. "Err ... boss? They don't look much like them others." He mutters quietly. "Uh… maybe we should let these ones pass…"  
"Quiet, Gendrick." The man hisses back before turning a suave grin on toward the others. "Greetings travelers!" He greets them cheerfully.

Alistair remains stone faced. "So this is what happens to a man once he loses all honor and deserts his king during a Blight." He says, his cold demeanor cracking for a moment. "He becomes a highwayman and preys on those fleeing the darkspawn, I suppose."

"So they're robbing us?" Ana asks, wincing as one of the more disgusting men licks his lips and making kissing noises toward her.

"They are fools to get in our way." Morrigan states, her golden eyes bright with annoyance. "We should teach them a lesson."

The man puts his hands up in feigned surrender. "Now, now! Is that any way to greet somebody?" He asks. He tsks and looks back at his men with a smirk. "Ten silvers and we'll let you pass."

"What?" Ana exclaims from Behind her brother-warden. "That's ridiculous!"

"So you're toll collectors then?" Alistair asks with disgust.  
"Why, of course!" The man says. He motions behind him. "It's for the upkeep of the Imperial Highway! As I'm sure you can see, it's a bit of a mess, isn't it?"

"Funny. I had no idea the royal army fixed roads." Alistair says, sardonically. "I guess you're really branching out, what with the Blight and all."

The nervous looking man begins to shift from one foot to the other. "I'm telling you, Boss." He mutters. "Look! All three of them are armed!"

The leader rolls his eyes but his grin remains in tact, if not a bit tensed. "I see that, Gendrick. However, armed or no, a toll is a toll - all must pay."

"Even Grey Wardens?" Ana asks.

The nervous one's eyes widen. "Did she say they're Grey Wardens?" He mutters as the group grows restless. "Thems the ones that killed the King!"

"What?" Alistair exclaims, stepping forward. "We did no such thing!"

"That's not what Teyrn Loghain says." The leader smirks. He crosses his arms over his chest. "In fact, he stated that the Grey Wardens are traitors to Ferelden! I believe he put quite a bounty out for you if you're found."

"Loghain is a liar!" Ana exclaims.

The man shrugs. "Perhaps but it's your word against his and his word promises coin." He motions to his group and they all unsheath their weapons. "Now it brings up the question - Will we be turning you in dead or alive? We'll leave that up to you."

Removing his shield from his back, Alistair glares at the men. "How about neither? You don't have to do this."

"I'm afraid we do. Men! Attack!"

As the men on each side lunge at them, Morrigan slams her staff into the ground and a wave of energy shoots outwards, throwing them and an unaware Ana backwards. The leader and his companion manage to remain upright and, after a moment to collect themselves, rush Alistair. With practiced finesse, he swings his shield outward to hit the companion while simultaneously hitting the leader square in the jaw with the pommel of his sword. Both stagger back which allows him to thrust his sword upwards, his blade slicing through the worn material of Gendrick's armor. Falling open, the shallow gash from navel to neck is exposed. Genrick looks down, his eyes widening before he lets out a war cry as he charges Alistair once more. As the young warden barely manages to deflect each strike, the leader smirks and strides toward Ana.

Sword in hand, she backs up and deflects the first couple effortless strikes before her sword is hit out of her hands. It flies a couple feet across the cobblestone and he smirks. He barely makes it a few feet from her before smoke rises from around him. Ana's brows furrow as the leaders stops to look around, moments before green flames engulf him. His screams echo through the space as Alistair runs Gendrick through with his sword. He lies the man down and removes his sword from Gendrick's gut and turns, wrinkling his nose at the stench of burned flesh.

"Maker's breath…" He mutters, signing himself. Slinging her staff across her back, Morrigan casually steps over the charred corpse of the leader and immediately begins to rifle through the crates. Alistair gives her a cautious glance before striding up to Ana. "Are you all right?" He asks, frowning.

Snapping out of her shock she gives him a tight nod and retrieves her sword. "I'm fine." She mutters, sheathing it.

Before Alistair can respond, Morrigan strides up, placing something in her pack.

"The threat has been successfully dealt with. Shall we continue?"

Alistair's eyes immediately move to her pack. "What did you take?"

"If you must know, vials, coin and other necessities; All things that they no longer have use of."

"How much coin?" Ana asks.

"We can't keep it." Alistair says, earning a groan and eye roll from his companions. "These men taxed innocent people escaping the Blight. That money belongs to them!"

"And how do expect us to return it, hm?" Ana snaps. "Do you think they kept a log of how much they took from whom?"

"No…" Alistair begins.

"Exactly. This may have belonged to others but right now, we need it."

Seeing no point in arguing, Alistair sighs and starts down the ramp leading down toward the nearby town with Morrigan in tow. Ana begins to follow until her eyes fall on the fallen templar. Could he have been one of the templars who guarded the mages at Ostagar? Could he have been injured in the battle and survived, only to succumb to his wounds here on the highway?

A frown tugs at the corners of her lips. Walking over, she kneels beside the armored body. Saying a silent prayer for him, she begins to stand back up but very idea of looting the templar's corpse seemed distasteful but perhaps he had something on him to make a suitable memorial? She bites her lip and looks out at the ramp where the others disappeared.

"Well, There it is. Lothering; Pretty as a picture." Alistair sighs, pausing at the platform flanked by stairs leading down. He motions up out in the distance where a village of tents are set up outside the palisade walls. "I think first things first, we should set up camp with the others and go from there. What do you think?" He turns, his brows furrowing to find only an unimpressed Morrigan. "Where's Ana?"

Looking up at from her nails she was examining, she shrugs. "Have you lost your fellow warden already?"

He glares at her but says nothing as he trudges back up to the Imperial Highway where he finds his sister-warden huddled over the body of the fallen templar. "Ana."

Quickly stuffing the letter and locket she was examining in her pack, Ana rises and turns to face him. "What?" She asks, a little moodier than she had intended.

Alistair's eyes move down toward the templar. "What were you doing?"

"I was praying for him." She says, brushing past him. "It was the least I could do."

As she descends down the ramp, Alistair once more looks at the body before following her.

They approach the refugee encampment and halt, taking in the scene. Children play nearby as men and women go about their business chopping wood, fetching water and other everyday tasks.

"It's just a guess but I'm thinking everyone in Lothering is aware of the approaching darkspawn horde." Alistair remarks, motioning toward tents. "We should set up camp before it gets too late. We still need to make a plan for our next move."

"A grand idea." Morrigan smirks from beside him. He rolls his eyes and turns to her.

"Let me guess; You have a better idea?"

She shrugs. "No. I'm just surprised."

"About what?"

"That you have seemed to rejoin us." She smirks. "If I recall correctly, you spent most of the journey thus far moping about. I'm surprised to see you so determined." She shrugs. "Seems like falling on your blade in grief seemed like too much trouble."

Alistair is taken aback yet before he can respond, Ana rounds on her. "Shut up!" She exclaims, her fists clenched at her sides. "Perhaps you should hold your tongue about matters you clearly know nothing about!"

Morrigan raises a brow in surprise. "It seems as though I've struck a nerve." She says, her smirk returning.

Tears threaten to fall but Ana manages to hold them at bay. "Death and grief is not something to mock. Perhaps you have never experienced losing somebody you cared for but we have."

Alistair nods. "Exactly! What would you do if your mother died?"

"Before or after I stopped laughing?" She retorts.

Ana's brow furrows as Alistair backs up slightly. "Right… very creepy. Forget I asked."

"Fuck you." Ana mutters. "At least your family is still alive."

She starts off toward village and Alistair crosses his arms. "And I thought I had terrible people skills." He mutters. "I take it this is the part we discover how you've never had a friend in your entire life."

Morrigan shoots him a glare. "I can be friendly when I desire to. Alas, in your case, desiring to be intelligent doesn't make it so."

"Kind of like in your case, desiring to have a heart doesn't make it so." He shoots back, taking off after Ana before she can respond.


	63. A Pleasant Surprise

Ana sits beneath a tree near the edge of the small enclosed courtyard just outside the palisade walls. She sniffs, looking out at the water beside the river that flows through it as she absently rubs the medallion on her necklace.

Once he finds her, Alistair awkwardly comes to stand behind her. He clears his throat making her flinch. "Sorry." He mutters.

"Shouldn't you be setting up the camp?" She asks with another sniff.

"Yes, but I figured I'd come check on you first. Thanks for sticking up for me back there."

She pulls her cloak closer around her. "I didn't do it for you."

He frowns despite her being turned away. "Oh. Well… even so, you were right. I doubt she would be able to understand our grief."

Ana turns to look at him, her bright eyes piercing through him. "Our? How could you possibly understand my grief? You lost one person. I lost my entire family, the man I loved, my king, my home, my status and now my dog."

"I didn't lose just one person-" Alistair begins to argue, his anger surging up through him until she cuts him off.

"With my luck, I probably also lost the only friend I had at Ostagar. The one person who understood what I was going through." She shakes her head. "Don't try to relate to me. You have no idea what I'm going through." Before he can respond, she waves him off and turns around. "Leave me be. I beg of you."

* * *

Shortly after Alistair leaves to set up camp, Ana rises from her seat and starts toward the entrance of the palisade gates. She barely makes it within the gates when a large man in templar armor blocks her. "You there." He says, "If you're seeking safe shelter, I'm afraid there is none to be found here."

"Then luckily I'm not seeking shelter." She tries to side step him but is blocked once more.

"Then what is your business? We can't have refugees sleeping in doorways or around the chantry."

She raises her chin. "Do I look like a refugee to you?" She seethes. "No. I simply want to trade and visit the chantry. Is that off limits as well?"

As the templar begins to respond, his eyes flick to the young man approaching wearing similar tarnished armor. He holds out his other hand to him. "Sir, there is no available space to seek shelter here. We are filled to the brim as is with refugees."

"We're not refugees." Alistair replies. "We're just here to resupply and rest up before moving on."

"See?" Ana says, impatiently. "Let us through."

"This woman says that you're also here to visit the chantry."

Alistair shrugs. As Alistair explains their presence, something, or rather somebody, catches Ana's eye behind the templar. Her heart leaps in her chest. Could it truly be?

Moving for a better look, her eyes widen. "Nate?" She mutters, watching as she watches Hawke walk start toward the small bridge connecting either side of the village separated by the river.

"Nate!" She calls out, ducking around the templar and taking off at a full sprint toward her friend. "Nate!"

The templar and Alistair call to her from behind but she ignores them. She calls to Nate once more. Halfway across the bridge, he stops and turns. A smile forms as they immediately embrace.

"Maker, I feared the worse!" She mutters, happy tears spilling down her cheeks. "Everyone...the Wardens...the king…"

His smile falls as he hugs her close. "I know, Love... I heard."

Pulling away, she quickly wipes her eyes with her sleeve. "How did you manage to escape?"

"It's a bit of a story." He says, glancing over as Alistair jogs up to them. He offers the lad a small grin. "It's good to see you again too, Alistair. I'm glad you two managed to make it out."

"You too." He nods.

"What about your brother?" Ana asks, her lips turned downward into a concerned frown. "Is he…?"

"Carver's fine." He reassures her. Feeling eyes on them, his expression turns serious. "I was actually just about to head back home, if you care to join? I know Carver would be happy to see you again, Ana. He was worried about you, as we all were." He lowers his voice. "Also, we need to talk. You two are in great danger."

Ana's eyes widen. "What? Why?"

Putting on a smile, he motions toward the bridge. "Come on. We have a lot to catch up on."

With a shared look of concern, the Wardens begin following Nate.

* * *

Nate's home is a small, yet simple cottage on the outskirts of the village with equally small parcels of land. Nearing the edge of the estate, Ana finally asks the question weighing on her chest. "Nate, what did you mean we're in great danger?"

He stops and the two wardens stop with him, looking at him with cautious curiosity. "I don't know if you two have heard yet but there's a fairly large bounty on your heads right now."

"A bounty?" Alistair asks, frowning. "What for? By whom?"

Just as Nate opens his mouth to reply, Carver rounds the corner of the small barn carrying a small stack of firewood. Spotting Nate, he frowns. "About time, Nate! Where-" His eyes move past his brother to the two people, clad in Warden armor. His eyes widen as the firewood falls from his arms.

Nate turns as the the firewood falls and reprimands him but gets ignored as Carver quickly makes his way to the makeshift fence enclosing the farmstead. "You're alive!" He breathes as he approaches Ana.

She nods. "We are. I see you are too."

"Carver, go pick that wood up." Nate commands. "We'll be right in."

Once more, Carver ignores him. "When I heard the Wardens were being sent to the frontlines, I feared the worst."

"Duncan sent us to have the signal lit at the Tower of Ishal." Alistair says. "We were nowhere near the frontlines. Even so, we thought we wouldn't make it."

"Carver."

Finally, Carver turns to shoot an irritated glance at his older brother. "What?"

"We'll be in shortly. Go pick up the firewood and bring it inside. Mother is waiting."

Carver glances at Ana as his face flushes. He quickly turns on his heel and storms back toward the hut.

"It's good to see some things don't change." Ana comments with a smile.

"He's a complete tit but I know he means well." Nate chuckles, waving for them to follow. "Come inside and meet the rest of the Hawke family." He glances at Ana. "There's somebody I think will be happy to see you again."

Nate starts toward the home and Ana begins to follow before Alistair stops her. "What?" She hisses, pulling her arm away from where he touched.

"As happy as I am to see Nate again, just remember that we can't stay long. We still need to stock up on supplies and need to sit down and plan where to go." He frowns.

Ana says nothing as she shoots him a quick glare before following Nate.

* * *

The cottage is small and simple but radiates warmth from the hearth at the center. Nate leads them through the wide doorway where a slender woman stands over the pot on the fire, humming softly to herself. Her dress simply made but sturdy like most Ferelden clothing and her medium length silver hair is plaited in a single braid down her back.

As they step into the room, a mound of brown fur rises with an excited bark before running at the Wardens.

"Much!" Ana exclaims as the hound practically knocks her over before licking away at the happy tears that had begun to fall. Nate, Alistair and the woman smile as they watch the joyful reunion of hound and mistress. Ana hugs the large hound, burying her face in his fur. When she finally looks up, she wipes her eyes with her sleeve. "H-how?" She asks.

Nate shrugs. "He found Carver and I when we were heading back here. Seeing no survivors, we feared the worse and decided to bring him home with us."

"I take it this must be his mistress." The woman chuckles. "Care to introduce us, Nate?"

Nate nods. He turns to the Wardens. "You've both already met Carver. This is our mother, Leandra Hawke. Bethany is around here somewhere."

"She's out feeding the chickens." Carver replies, nudging his way past Alistair.

Ana gives a small curtsy. "A pleasure to meet you, Leandra."

Leandra smiles as Alistair awkwardly bows.

"Mother, these are the two Wardens I told you about; Ana Cousland and Alistair…." He pauses. "I just now realized I don't know your last name."

Alistair's cheek redden. "Just Alistair is fine."

Leandra's expression falls but she quickly smiles once more as if nothing happened. "A pleasure to meet you both." She glances at Nate. "Nathan, come help me set up for supper while your friends rest. I'm sure it's been quite a journey for them."

Carver leads them into the small adjoining room. As soon as Ana and Alistair are out of the room, Nate returns to his mother's side as she takes up at the fire once more.

"What's the matter?" He says, keeping his voice low. "You never call me Nathan unless something is wrong."

"Nate, you know that having them here is unwise." She frowns. "If anybody seen you bring them here…"

"I never took you as somebody who cared what others thought." Nate grins but his mother's frown remains intact.

"I'm not but General Loghain's announcement made it clear: anybody who is even caught associating with the Wardens will be punished. With you and your sister-"

Nate's grin falls as he touches his mother's shoulder. "I know and normally I wouldn't risk it but they really have nobody else. Nobody else who was at Ostagar when the king was killed are alive and can testify on their behalf.

Maybe we can help them?"

"How?" Leandra asks. "With the refugees and the Blight, we're barely scraping by as it is."

"I don't mean with coin. Perhaps telling them about a safer route or giving them some old clothes to at least disguise themselves?" He frowns. "We have to at least do something . I may not know Alistair very well but Ana is my friend."

Leandra sighs, reaching up to touch her son's stubbled jaw. "You've got your father's heart and fighting spirit." She says with a sad smile. "I know you mean well." Her hand drops as she tries to think. "For now, they can stay for supper so you can inform them about their bounty. I'll think about what can be done but I can't promise much."

Nate smiles. "Thank you. I know this isn't easy to ask of you."

Leandra shakes her head as she stirs the pot. "That poor girl." She sighs. "First her family and her home and now she's been unknowingly declared an outlaw." She pauses. "By the way you spoke of her, I never expected her to be Bethany's age. With everything she's been through, I expected her to be a few years older like you."

"Hardship does that." Nate states grimly.

Leaving his mother after setting the stable with their crude wooden bowls and spoons, Nate exits the dimly lit cottage to find Carver leaning against the side of the house as Ana chatted with Bethany. His brows furrow as he glances around. "Where's Alistair?"


	64. Traitors To The Crown

Ignoring the various looks he received from onlookers, Alistair quickly shuffles past and enters the small tavern near the bridge. The inside is about half full of people, primarily refugees. A loud pair of soldiers in gleaming plate metal let out a roar of laughter nearby. Alistair glances over and, noticing the Mac Tir dragon emblem on their armor, immediately looks away. Unfortunately for him, their laughter quickly dies down as they take notice of the newcomer.

"Well, well. What do we have here?" One of them says, his voice booming as the tavern goes quiet. The lad pretends not to notice him as he looks around in search of Morrigan.

Seeing no sign of her, he turns on his heel and almost bumps into one of the men who placed himself between him and the door. Shit.

"It's funny." The first one begins, casually walking through the parting crowd toward him. "We came here in search of a man with your description who was said to be dressed as a Grey Warden and in the company of a young woman who was also a Warden." He stops before him. "Yet, when we asked if anybody had seen you, they said they hadn't."

"Seems we were lied to." His companion sneers before spitting on the floor nearby.

As Alistair tries to think up an excuse, a young woman with short red hair and chantry robes steps up. "Now, gentlemen." She says, her Orlesian accent curling around her words as she smiled at the two men. "Surely there is no need for trouble. Surely he and his companion you spoke of are simply more poor souls seeking refuge."

"She's right." Alistair began only to be cut off by one of the soldiers as they step toward the woman. She doesn't flinch or step away as he glares down at her.

"They're much more than that. General Loghain's announcement was clear: Any surviving Grey Wardens are traitors to the crown and shall be punished for their plot against our late king, Cailan Theirin."

Alistair's brows furrow. "We had nothing to do with that! Loghain-"

Once more his words are ignored.

"Stay out of our way, sister. Part of the chantry or no, you will be declared a traitor and punished as well if you protect these Wardens." As he says this, the other soldier's begin unsheathing their weapons.

"This is all a huge misunderstanding!" Alistair exclaims, unsheathing his own blade as he looks around to find himself and the chantry sister surrounded. "Loghain is lying! He's the traitor!"

"It doesn't matter what you say." The sister says, coolly. "These men will blindly follow their master's commander even unto death."

The first man, who seems to be the leader of the group sneers at this. "Watch your tongue, woman! I'm not the blind one! I served at Ostagar, where the teyrn saved us from the Grey Wardens' treachery! I serve him gladly!"

"Clearly you weren't present in the actual battle then." Alistair shoots back. "Your commander and your fellow soldiers quit the field while the Wardens and your king were slaughtered! The Wardens stood by and defended their king while you ran away like a beaten hound with its tail between its legs!"

"Enough!" The leader bellows, before addressing his men. "Take this Warden into custody and search the town for the girl. As for the sister," He says, motioning to her with his chin. "Kill her and anybody else that gets in your way."

Immediately, a sword swings through the air at Alistair and he barely manages to deflect it as the chantry sister beside him pulls two daggers from somewhere inside her robe.

As the fight breaks out, Alistair and the sister fight against the handful of armed men with some help from a couple men from the loft. Within moments, Nate and Carver burst through the door of the tavern.

"Shit." Nate mutters, looking around for something to use as a weapon. He notices another armored man stationed behind a small table, watching the action with horrified curiosity. Striding over, he grabs the pommel of the man's sword hanging off his side. "Hi. I need to borrow this."

He earns a surprised shout as he removes the sword and moves into the fray. A blade barely misses his nose and he quickly elbows the man square in the face before burying the blade in a nearby soldier. "Sorry, mate." He mutters, pushing him off.

Another soldier swings his sword down on a preoccupied Alistair but is quickly taken out by Carver as he hits the man in the head with a barstool.

They manage to take down all but the leader. Wiping the sword clean on one of the fallen soldiers' pants, Nate returns the sword to its shocked owner as Alistair points the tip of his blade at the leader's neck.

"What are you waiting for?" The man spits. "Kill me. You Wardens should be used to killing innocent people by now."

"We didn't do anything that Loghain says!" Alistair hisses.

"Perhaps you could demonstrate your mercy." The sister suggests beside him. "You could allow him to live and send a message to this Loghain."

"Like what?" He asks, his gaze never leaving the man.

Nate walks over and picks the man up by the back of his armor and heaves him up. "How about, 'Dead men tell no tales, but survivors know the truth.'" He suggests, with a snarl.

"Fine." The leader spits. "I'll deliver your message, no matter how false it is."

As Alistair sheaths his sword, he glares at the man as he quickly steps over his fallen comrades and leaves the tavern.

"Can I not leave you alone for five minutes without getting into fights?" Nate comments with a smirk. Alistair's cheeks burn as the sister hides her daggers away once more.

"I apologize for interfering." She says. "I couldn't just sit by and not help."

"I saw you fighting." Carver says, his eyes wide. "How did somebody from the chantry learn to fight like that?"

The woman chuckles. "I wasn't born in the chantry, you know. Many of us had more...colorful lives before we joined."

"I'd love to hear about yours." Carver breathes, making the sister smile.

"Later, Carver." Nate interjects.

The sister curtsies. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Leliana. One of the lay sisters of the chantry here in Lothering."

"Alistair." The lad says, holding out his hand. Smiling, Leliana shakes it.

"I'm Carver." Carver interjects, motioning vaguely beside him. "This is my brother, Nate. We live here in Lothering."

"Outside of Lothering, technically." Nate mutters, "Which we should be getting back to…"

Leliana nods in acknowledgement of the two before turning her attention back to Alistair.

"Before you go, those men said you were a Grey Warden. You are battling the darkspawn, yes? That is what Grey Wardens do?"

"It is." Alistair replies, cautiously. "And I am. Why?"

"I can see that your status draws trouble. You'll need some help. I'm coming with you."

The lad's brows furrow. "Um...why?"

She shrugs. "The Maker told me so." She says simply.

The three men exchange glances. Finally, Nate lays a hand on Alistair's shoulder.

"I think there has been enough excitement today." Nate smiles. "I imagine my friend here needs some time to consider your offer. You said you're a lay sister here in Lothering. Perhaps they can seek you out tomorrow once he has rested and thought it over?"

Leliana smiles, bowing her head. "Of course. I shall be at the chantry more most of the day. You may give me your reply tomorrow."

Leading Alistair back to the door, Nate pauses as he feels the barkeep's stare burning into his back. He looks down at the mess of bodies lying around. "Sorry about that." He mutters. "I'll send somebody to clean that up. Again… sorry."

Pushing Alistair along, they exit the tavern and head back to Hawke's home.

* * *

Sitting on a small mound of hay, Ana idly scratches Much's ears as she stares off at the road where Nate and Carver went. She could only imagine the stupidity of her brother-warden and what could have happened to him in town.

"Hello?"

Jumping slightly, she turns toward the young woman with medium length black hair and dark blue eyes standing a few feet away. Noticing the basket hanging on her arm, Ana smiles.

"You must be Bethany, Nate and Carver's sister."

"I am…" She says carefully, narrowing her eyes as she notices the griffin emblem on her armor. "And you are?"

"I'm Ana. I'm a friend of Nate's."

Bethany's eyes widen with recognition. "You're Ana! You survived!" She breathes. "Nate and Carver speak of you all the time!"

"They do?" Ana asks, her cheeks burning.

Bethany nods, her smile fading slightly. "Of course! I'm very sorry about your husband, Ser Gilmore. Nate told me he was a good man."

At the mention of him, Ana feels the tears start to prick the back of her eyes but she manages to hold them at bay. "Thank you. He was." Subconsciously, Ana touches her stomach, remembering the pain as Bethany looks around.

"I wonder where they went… Does Nate know you survived?"

Taken from her thoughts, Ana nods. "Yes. My brother-warden, Alistair, and I saw him in town and he invited us here. Alistair went back into town and your brothers went to retrieve him."

"And found him, we did."

Both women turn to see the three men entering the gate. Fresh blood is spotted on each man's clothing as they approach.

"Maker's breath!" Ana exclaims, rushing up to them. She stops before Nate, her eyes sweeping over him for wounds and finding none. "What happened?" As she asks this, she shoots a glare at Alistair.

"Don't worry." Nate says, more directed at his sister's accusatory glance. "We're fine. There was a bit of a scuffle in the tavern."

"Loghain's men." Alistair says grimly.

Ana's eyes widen. "They're here in Lothering? Why aren't they with the Teyrn?"

"To arrest us." Alistair replies. "Apparently Loghain has been telling everybody that we, the Wardens, killed the King. Right now, we're accused of being traitors to the crown."

"But we didn't!"

"I know." Alistair frowns. "But it's his word against ours. As the two surviving Wardens in Ferelden, we're suspects."

"You see, this is the danger I was trying to warn you both against." Nate says, his gaze shifting between them. "You noticed people whispering about you when you arrive, yes? The Grey Warden insignia on your shield and armor is well known and is now a beacon for people to find you to claim the bounty on your heads."

"So nowhere is safe!" Ana frowns. "That's it! It's over."

"Not entirely."

Both Wardens look at Nate expectantly.

"The bounty is on any surviving Wardens. If you weren't Wardens, you'll be able to travel around safer than as Wardens."

"That's your solution?" Carver sneers. "Don't be Wardens? Brilliant."

Alistair nods. "I think he means we need to disguise ourselves."

"But how?" Ana pouts. "These are the only clothes and armor we had. The camp was destroyed."  
"I can see if we have some extra clothing here for you." Bethany pipes in. "Nate or Carver should have something suitable for him." She motions to Alistair.

Nate nods. "We should. Extra armor may be a bit difficult though. Carver and I still have our armor from Ostagar but whether or not it'll fit is another issue."

"Not to mention in times like these, you may need it." Ana mutters.

Silence falls over the group moments before Leandra opens the door, her brows jumping up as she sees them. "Nathan!" She exclaims, her eyes moving over the three men. "What happened?"

"Nothing to worry about." Nate reassures her. "We had a bit of a scrap in the tavern. Everything is fine now."

His mother's eyes betrayed her worry but she says nothing further. "Dinner is about ready. Go clean yourselves up."

As Bethany follows Leandra inside, Carver and Alistair leave to get cleaned up.

"She doesn't like us being here, does she?" Ana frowns.

Nate sighs. "Not entirely. She worries about Bethany and I."

Ana's brows draw together a moment before she realizes what he means. "Bethany is a mage." She says, keeping her voice low.

"Just like our father."Nate nods. "As you can expect, the fact that we're living outside the circle makes us apostates."

"And having us here puts you at risk." She frowns. "Then we should leave. I'm sorry, Nate. When I saw you…"

Nate puts his hand up to stop her. "There's nothing to apologize for." He says, offering her a smile. "I brought you here because I _wanted_ to help you." He shrugs. "After everything you've been through, I figured you could use a bit of kindness."

Ana returns his smile as somebody calls her name from inside. Nate motions toward the door. "Go ahead and head inside. We'll be in soon." He reaches out and touches her arm. "We'll figure something out, I promise."


End file.
